The Club Killer
by PTBvisiongrrl
Summary: A series of seemingly unrelated murders leads Gibbs and team into an undercover operation in the secret world of sex clubs. Gabby, Tiva, Tony/Abby friendship, and lots of smut. Be forewarned.
1. Chapter 1

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 1/?

**Date-** 2/20/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- Gabby, Tiva, Abby/Tony friendship

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language, after effects of rape, f/f slash

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences, then off to AU land

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

Author's Note:

This has been sitting on my flashdrive for months—unfinished, but steadily worked on. So I think posting might kick my ass into actually finishing it, or at least working on it more regularly. I hate to put out another unfinished story, but I am being up front about its status from the get go for those of you who hate to get caught up in a story and then be disappointed because its not complete. (I've been there, done that, too, as a reader, and I know the frustration.)

Prologue Coincidences Do Not Exist

"This is like the set up for a bad joke," Tony muttered staring at the plasma screen, mouse in hand. "A sailor, a Marine, and a sailor's ex-wife walk into a bar…" Even at his low volume, the Gibbs slap was not unexpected.

"There has to be something to tie these three together, dammit." Gibbs leaned against his desk, sipping slowly at the hot coffee cup in his hand. "Why is someone slicing the throats of these people and dumping their bodies?"

"We have no site of death or disposal; no consistent weapon for the beating each took before death, simply what came to hand; no shared acquaintances or service history. Other than the final, fatal injury, we cannot even tie these together forensically yet." Ziva thumbed through the green folder again. "They do not even bank or food shop at a common store!"

"There are no coincidences, Ziva. Look at other open homicides where the bodies were dumped and discovered later. Check the LEOs and FBI, cold cases, too. Maybe our killer isn't just into military corpses. McGee—get further into their financials and such. There has to be a link we haven't found yet. Tony, check in with Abs again, see if she came up with anything." Gibbs stood up, heading for the elevator. "I'm going to go talk to Duck and see if he can figure anything else out we should be looking for."

It was like dozens of other cases they had solved before—picking at scattered straws until it fell into a recognizable haystack, then managing to find the needle in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 2/?

**Date-** 2/20/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- Gabby, Tiva, Abby/Tony friendship

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language, after effects of rape, f/f slash

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences, then off to AU land

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

Chapter One Unwelcome Revelations

"Whatta ya got for me, Abs?" Gibbs barked in his usual impatience as he walked in. This case had been brewing for weeks with no leads; until there was a fresh kill, unless Ducky or Abby found something for him and the team to run with, it was at a standstill, an inch closer to becoming another Cold Case. While there was a great deal of forensics, Ducky had been unable to provide any useful psychological insight, given the lack of cohesiveness between the scenes. Gibbs's hands were metaphorically tied without a break, and his growing annoyance was showing. He really hoped Abby had found something useful and not just a dead end.

"On about the tenth time going over them, McGee found a common charge on all three victim's credit cards. While the front companies were under different names, a little further digging shows that the parent company is a Red Light, Inc. It's an Internet company." Abby typed away at her computer, trying to seem as normal as possible.

Gibbs stood behind Abby and to her left, waiting. "What does this parent company deal in?"

Biting her lip, Abby mentally repeated _I am not lying to Gibbs_. And she wasn't going to. She had learned the futility of that several times over, as well as that while she couldn't lie directly to him, she could lie by omission. Or at least, do so most of the time with success. She really hoped that this was one of those times, because she did not want to have to tell Gibbs the truth. "Sex."

"This is my kind of case, Abs!" Tony piped up from the back of the lab, leaving the locked drawer he had been playing with alone.

"Sex?" Gibbs asked. "As in, escorts?"

"No," Abby shook her head in emphasis. "Red Light is a holding company for several sex-related enterprises. A chain of adult stores, several adult-content web sites, an adults-only travel agency, and two clubs within the DC Metro area."

"Quite the empire," Tony quipped in a less amused voice. Abby could tell he saw where this was going and didn't like it anymore than she did. "What clubs?"

Abby looked Tony directly in the eye, speaking to Gibbs but avoiding his glare. "Burning Ember and The Garden of Eden." Tony paled beneath his ever-present tan.

"Strip clubs?" Gibbs asked, not entirely oblivious to the undercurrent in the room but also not quite sure what it was yet. He was willing to overlook the "hinky" feel in the interests of the case for now. He probably didn't want to know, anyway.

Tony was unnaturally still. His discomfort made Abby more anxious than she already was. "Ah, no, Gibbs. Much more fun than that," she managed to say, her voice almost normal in its shallow, gravelly depths.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. Abby closed her eyes momentarily. "Sex clubs, Gibbs. Ember is a bondage club; Eden, a swingers club." Abby pulled the homepages for both clubs up on the big screen. "Going through the charges to Red Light, it looks like our victims were all members of at least one of the clubs—some joined both on a combo membership fee, based on the amount of the charges. They all became members rather recently, though. Six months or less."

"Check out the employees, then the members, DiNozzo." Gibbs looked to his senior agent.

Tony stuttered, then shut up. Abby stepped in to save him. "McGee is already working on the employee list; there aren't many. It will take forever to reconstruct member lists, though, Gibbs. People who attend these clubs tend to be secretive; real names are rarely used, save the credit card charges, which most people, unlike our victims, usually do not use precisely because they are traceable—"

"How long, Abs?" Gibb cut her off, trying to pick up the pace of disclosure.

"Too long, Gibbs." Abby sighed, a bit defeated. "These murders were about a month apart. We are approaching the month mark again this weekend. These types of clubs are only open Fridays and Saturdays. Its already Thursday, noon. There is no way we can get the list and run or interview the people—even know who was actually there on the nights the victims disappeared—in time, even with a search warrant, which we won't get. We just won't have a list in enough time to prevent this week's deaths."

"If he hits again this weekend." Gibbs took a long sip of coffee. "Why can't we just go right to the club management and ask for a list, Abs?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. She was making this seem awfully convoluted and difficult, even for a usual Abby explanation.

"These are businesses that depend on anonymity and secrecy, Gibbs," Tony shook his head. "They aren't going to talk to federal agents. Without a warrant, they won't give us anything. With one, they won't be that much more cooperative, if they want to stay in business."

Agreeing, Abby added, "Even the Gibbs death glare won't budge them. And if you try and force your way in—well, its members only."

"Then we go in undercover. How the hell hard is it to become a member?" Gibbs demanded, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Not hard," Abby shrugged. "But you have to be sponsored in by a current member. Usually, contact is made via the Internet and prospective members accompany current members to a meet and greet. You get to see the club, get an idea of the people, and decide if you want to join or not."

"Let me guess," Gibbs took another sip. "Not enough time if we want to prevent more murders?"

Abby shook her head again. "No, not enough. The next meet and greet is not for two months."

"There has to be a way in to this club," Gibbs stated.

"How?" Abby asked, hopeful. She had depended on Gibbs finding a way out of this box that she had found herself in at the moment. She did not want to have to disclose facts about her sex life to Gibbs, but she also wasn't willing to risk innocent lives just so she could skip embarrassing herself in front of the boss-man.

"Not a clue yet." Gibbs leaned over and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "But we'll figure something out. Good job."

Tony shot Abby a panicked look as Gibbs made to leave. Tony knew exactly what Abby was going to do, and he did not want her to do it.

She did it anyway. "Gibbs!" Abby hollered out just as the elevator dinged. She ran to her lab door. It was difficult to meet Gibbs's eye. "I know how you can get in."

"How?" Gibbs asked impatiently, holding the silver door open by force.

Looking at her toes, hands clasped demurely behind her back, Abby answered in a small voice. "I'm a member."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 3/?

**Date-** 2/25/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- Gabby, Tiva, Abby/Tony friendship

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language, after effects of rape, f/f slash

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences, then off to AU land

Disclaimers- Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…Chapter One- Part II

_**Unwelcome Revelations**_

"I want to act like I didn't just hear that, Abs," Gibbs sighed. There was so much he'd rather not know about his Abby; it seemed the more he knew, the less she was "his" Abby, and he very much liked to think of her as "his."

Nervous laughter. "C'mon, Gibbs. You've had four wives—Marine or not, you can't tell me never got a little hinky with at least one of them!"

Ignoring the jab, and not just because she was right, Gibbs gave her a death-glare. "Tell me you don't know our victims."

Holding up the Boy Scout salute, Abby enthusiastically shook her head. "I do NOT know our victims."

"Then why are you telling me this?" Gibbs sighed. "Why not five minutes ago?"

"Because you really aren't getting information on this case your usual way," Tony chimed in. Tony had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. "No one is going to freely hand you a membership list. People who go to these clubs generally do not advertise the fact, even to family and friends. Sometimes, not even spouses. You can't get someone in under cover easily to observe. Membership issues aside, the clubs don't allow electronic gizmos, earwhigs, or cameras of any kind. Not even cell phones."

"You know this why, DiNozzo? Gibbs turned on his Senior Agent and demanded, his gut already telling him that he wasn't going to like Tony's answer.

"I didn't want to tell you. I was hoping you'd come up with a better way." Abby sighed, closing her eyes for minute and drawing in a breath. The next part was even more difficult. "Tony knows because he goes with me, Gibbs." Abby admitted lowly, waiting for the yelling to start, or her very first head-slap.

"You go to this type of club with Tony?" The disbelief was quickly being over taken by—jealousy?—as Gibbs rounded on her. He shoved that thought down, hard and deep, and tried very hard to ignore its existence.

Tony instinctively moved closer to Abby, putting himself between Abby and the suddenly less-than-calm Gibbs. He didn't think Gibbs would do more than shoot her an angry glare, but that might as well be a bullet for Gibbs's favorite Goth. "After Mikel—I made her promise not to go to these places by herself, Boss."

"How self-sacrificing of you, Dinozzo." Gibbs rubbed his face tiredly, the ire he had felt minutes before cooling. He could hear the truth in DiNozzo's voice; and, as much as a ladies' man as Tony might be, he was also a good guy somewhere deep inside. If it couldn't be Gibbs there, Tony was a decent second choice.

Abby didn't even want to try and explain the bond she and Tony had formed. It would never be a violation of Rule #12; they were friends, nothing more, but VERY good friends with some fun benefits. "The point of this, Gibbs, is that you can't go in there looking like agents. No one will talk to you, you can't get the usual evidence in the time we need it, and you aren't going to be able to place ANYONE under cover without my help."

"I don't like this, Abs." Gibbs spat out.

"Me at a club like this, me and Tony, or that you needed my non-forensic help to crack this case?" Abby asked, her voice almost bitter.

Gibbs was taken aback by the tone, but covered it with his usual gruffness. "I don't like any of this, Abs."

"Tough. I didn't want to have to tell you, if there was another way, but I did it. I didn't see a better choice." she said, hands on her hips and stepping past Tony to face Gibbs down. "So, do you want my help or not?"

Gibbs felt defeated. His image of Abby had never been pure as the driven snow—nor had his secret thoughts about her that he had never planned on sharing—but the idea of her and Tony troubled him more than he could put into words. It bothered him more that he wasn't sure why. Stepping up close and pulling Abby into a friendly hug, Gibbs admitted he needed her. "Yes, Abs. We need your help."


	4. Chapter 4

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 4/?

**Date-** 3/6/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- Gabby, Tiva, Abby/Tony friendship

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language, after effects of rape, f/f slash

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences, then off to AU land

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

Chapter Two

_**Permission Granted**_

"Can we plan this op somewhere other than the bullpen?" Tony asked Gibbs in the elevator, having left Abby to shut down her babies for the time being so that she would be free to help.

"Hell, yes," Gibbs agreed, relieved someone else had made the suggestion. "Although wouldn't people knowing you go to these clubs AND you snagged Abby just help that playboy image of yours?"

Tony internally sighed. Gibbs was disappointed in him, he could tell. Tony didn't think it was the clubs themselves that were the problem, but there was a reason he never wanted Gibbs to know he had slept with Abby. Gibbs might not admit it, but Tony could tell Gibbs's feelings for Abby were less fatherly than everyone else thought. Gibbs hid it well, but the longer Tony knew Gibbs, the more certain Tony was that Gibbs LOVED Abby, the real, happily-ever-after kind of love. "While it would only make people think better of me, I'm sure, I don't know that Abby would like everyone to know she's made the poor choice to sleep with me."

Gibbs considered Tony's demeanor. Tony's statement had not been made in humor—Tony voice held honest concern for Abby's reputation, probably more than she herself usually had, Gibbs thought. It was enlightening. Gibbs knew Tony was a good agent, and a decent man, but women had always been Tony's weakness. "Rule #12 is there for a reason, DiNozzo. You should know that better than Abs."

DiNozzo hit the stop button, beating Gibbs to it. "We aren't dating, Boss. After Mikel—you and I both know Abby is into scary things. She didn't want you to be disappointed in her any more than you already were. She still feels like Mikel was her fault, and that you might think so, too—because she didn't ask for help from you sooner. So she came to me and asked me to go with her and watch her back. We're friends, Gibbs. That's it. We will never be anything more."

"So you never had sex with her?" Gibbs demanded, his eyes hard and mouth set.

Tony closed his eyes, waiting for the hit. He doubted it would be a simple head-slap, and he wouldn't raise a hand in his own defense. He didn't entirely feel good about this arrangement himself. "I'm not going to lie, Gibbs. Yeah, we slept together. But it's a friends with benefits type of situation, nothing more."

"So you took advantage of her fear after Mikel?" Gibbs's eyebrow quirked up.

Gibbs's voice had dropped dangerously low, making Tony's eyes pop open. "No. She approached me. I asked her to be careful, to not go the clubs, to not date people she met on-line. She said she refused to change who she was, and instead asked me to go with her to the clubs. It was not my idea."

"But you went." Gibbs stately flatly, his temper rising irrationally. Tony was watching out for Abby. Gibbs should be glad there was someone Abby could go to, since she hadn't come to him. Again. Not that he blamed her, he thought wryly. His clean-cut Marine presence left very little opening for Abby to realize that he even knew this type of lifestyle existed, much less anything about it. Gibbs also knew that she had some type of odd hero worship for him, one that he was very careful never to take advantage of. That alone, coupled with his reaction to the discovery of the Mikel disaster, was reason enough for Abby to go to Tony rather than him. He got it. Understanding why didn't remove the ball of anger from his gut, though.

"Wouldn't you, in my place?'' Tony fired back. "I didn't want her in danger."

"Then why didn't you just take care of all those needs and keep her out of the clubs altogether?" Gibbs advanced on Tony, the anger still roiling beneath the surface.

"I'm not what Abby needs, Gibbs," Tony shook his head and chuckled, but did not back away. "That woman is—" The evil eye from Gibbs ended the thought before it passed his lips. "She hit on me, she was completely sober, and I said no several times before she convinced me to change my mind. I'm just a guy, Gibbs. I'm not made of stone."

Nodding, Gibbs paused for one last question before hitting the stop button again and sending the elevator back into motion. "How many times?"

Tony opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Considering his words, no doubt, Gibbs thought. He would in Tony's place. "She's not a notch in my bedpost, Gibbs. I didn't count."

Honest answer, Gibbs acknowledged. _But enough times that he would have to think to count them._ This time, Gibbs at least admitted the beginning twinges of jealously to himself. The head slap was a little bit harder than usual, but Tony took it in stride. No doubt that Tony felt he more than deserved it himself, Gibbs thought. "I need to talk to the director, give him an update and heads up. Have the team meet at my house in two hours. Pick up pizza and beer."


	5. Chapter 20

**Title- _The Club Killer_**

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 5/?

**Date-** 6/6/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- Gabby, Tiva, Abby/Tony friendship

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language, after effects of rape, f/f slash

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences, then off to AU land

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Two- Part II**_

_**Permission Granted**_

The team had already assembled by the time Gibbs made it back to his house. The Director was less than thrilled with the white-washed plan Gibbs has presented him with. While Gibbs had to tell the Director that Abby was their "in" for undercover work, he had deliberately misled the Director in Abby's personal ties to the club. As far as Vance knew, Abby simply knew someone who would be willing to help NCIS out with access, nothing more.

Vance's main concern had been the nature of the club. It was to be volunteer-only, and any agent not comfortable with the detail was excused without prejudice. Gibbs agreed, having already decided on that. With less than whole-hearted support, but allowing Gibbs a great deal of latitude, Vance had finally approved.

Now Gibbs just had to manage to plan this with his team without losing his temper or showing any jealousy about Abby's role. Because Gibbs knew what went on at those clubs, and he knew Abby. She was not a field agent, and could not be expected to act like one. What you got with Abby, no matter what, was pure Abs. Whatever she was normally like there, she would be now.

And Gibbs wasn't sure if he could take that.

Gibbs immediately put his service weapon and badge into the living room gun safe, listening to the murmur of the team gathered in his backyard. He silently made his way up to his bedroom and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before joining them. They were on the deck, pizza boxes stacked on the picnic table and beer neatly deposited in a small metal tub with ice. A brown bag, tipped on its side to display innards of paper plates and napkins, sat next to the cooler. A sign of the tension even he felt was a beer in Abby's hand rather than the ever-present Caf-Pow. There were already several empties lined up against the wall.

"Time to eat!" Tony announced as Gibbs stepped through the back door. Grabbing a beer and popping its cap off with a key chain opener, Tony handed it to him; Ziva began distributing slices. Twenty minutes of small talk and three slices later, Gibbs started the business portion of the evening. "You tell them anything yet, DiNozzo?" he asked, finishing his beer in one last, long pull.

"No," Ziva answered for him. "Other than we are planning an undercover operation, Tony has not chosen to share."

Gibbs nodded. Without preamble, he stated, "All three of the victims belonged to a local members-only, sex club. It's the only commonality we can find."

"Red Light," McGee shook his head. "Name makes sense, then."

"We are going undercover at a sex club." Ziva stated, mouth pursed. The tension made sense to her now, Gibbs was sure; the light bulb had gone on. "You are going undercover, too, Abby?"

"Uh, yeah," Abby looked to McGee rather than Ziva as she answered. "I'm the one who is getting us in."

"We can't just talk to them, boss?" McGee asked, the strain causing his voice to shoot up an octave.

"No," Tony stated. "The employees have come up clean so far; at least the on-the-book ones we could track from paychecks and tax forms. Nothing to question them about there, and if we start yanking in employees it will alert the club we are looking into them. That leaves the members. The clubs are very secretive. Short of a court order, we aren't getting a list. We can't even just walk in and ask questions, since it's a private club. Though, even if we could, people aren't going to give us answers."

"This is not your standard op," Gibbs stated, looking each and every one of them in the eye. "Aside from the fact that it's a private club that specializes in public and group sex. We go in blind—no cameras, no mikes, no earwhigs. Won't get past security. We have to blend in. Not sure what that will entail exactly, but it could be uncomfortably close for your tastes."

"We may have to have public or multiple partner sex?" Ziva asked, no shock in her voice. Gibbs knew she had done many things to achieve mission aims with the Mossad, and sex with someone (or someones) she did not like was probably low on the list of things she'd refuse to do. He had counted on that.

McGee immediately began stuttering. "I don't know, boss—"

"No one is required to do this." Gibbs grabbed another beer, opened it himself, and drank deep. "Volunteer only, and I will not think less of anyone who does not want to go in on it. Even I'm not entirely comfortable with this one."

Abby spoke up first in the sudden quiet lull. "Ziva—men and women will be all over you the minute you walk in. Its not exactly a standoffish place. Hands are pretty free in their wandering—" Gibbs had thought of this as well- "and, well, you can't break their arms."

Ziva nodded, a small smile playing around her mouth. "I do know that, Abby. And I have not broken any one's arm as of late."

Gibbs picked up Abby's train of thought. While it wasn't hard to figure out what Ziva's treatment at the hands of Saleem had probably been, Gibbs had never asked for detail and Ziva had never offered. Op aside, Gibbs worried for his junior agent as well. "Will you be comfortable doing this, Ziva?"

"I have been asked to do similar things before for less tangible results. I would like to catch this monster." Ziva stated, meeting Gibbs's gaze and nodded. "I am fine with the requirements of this mission."

Satisfied that Ziva could handle it if she said she could, Gibbs turned to Tim. Gibbs doubted the boy had the chops for an assignment like this yet, but as always, Gibbs was willing to let Tim figure that out himself. "McGee?"

With a long look at Abby, then the ground, McGee shook his head in resignation. "I can't do it, boss."

Placing a hand on McGee's shoulder, Gibbs let him know it was okay. "I don't blame you one bit, son."

McGee looked a little less slumped as Gibbs send him back to the office to continue working the internet and email aspects of the case, while Ziva, Tony, Abby, and he worked out a plan. Initial interviews with spouses and family members hadn't brought up any red flags; either they were lying to NCIS or they really didn't know about the spouse's extra curricular activities. Tim would dig deeper on personal laptops and internet usage, now that there was more of a focus for him to go on, in hopes of preventing the need to go undercover at all.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 5/?

**Date-** 6/12/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

Chapter Three Working Out the Details

Gibbs settled on the sofa, beer in hand. "Abs, Tony—this is your show."

Tony considered Gibbs. He knew that Gibbs would want to be Abby's partner—but it wouldn't work. He wondered how Gibbs would take that; not well, no doubt, no matter how logical or necessary. "Abby and I have been there before, and they know us. Abby's going to be your sponsor, so you and Ziva are a couple. Since its your first time there, asking a lot of questions won't look odd. It will also be easy to get names and email addresses. Once you're inside, its-"

Abby interrupted. "Laid back. People are there to meet others and get to know them. A lot of the members hang out together outside of the club, as well. The BDSM club, well, that would be a lot more rigid."

"There are two clubs?" Ziva asked.

"There might be," Tony answered. "The credit card charges were unclear—some victims joined one of the clubs, one both. If they only joined one, we aren't sure which one, because of the way the credit card charges were listed."

"But it's a good bet if they only belong to one, its Garden." Abby bit her lip. "The other has a much smaller membership. In all likelihood, if the killer was from Ember, he or she would have been caught already. They police their own."

Tony agreed. "So we try Garden first and hope we find something. We walk in and start talking to lots of people. Some will just want to talk, others will want more." Tony looked at Gibbs; while Ziva could be all crazy Ninja chick sometimes, Ziva did not have any personal ties to another member of the undercover team that might compromise her ability to focus. "There are no rules and all kinds of tastes. There are private rooms for hourly rental, semi-private booths, and a big open mattress room. That doesn't stop sex from going on at the bar—"

"Or on the dance floor or pool table," Abby added. "Everyone is there for sex, so the preliminaries are pretty much skipped over. But not everyone is an exhibitionist, so you two can probably get away without actually doing anything."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You, too?"

"Ah," Abby stuttered a little, a deep blush creeping over the edges of her pale complexion. "I have a bit of a reputation there—if I don't hook up, people will wonder if something is wrong. That might be more attention than we want."

"How often do you go here, Abby?" Gibbs asked, voice soft and low.

"Often enough," she answered, biting her lip. _Please don't ask for more detail, Gibbs,_ she mentally mantra'ed.

Tony stepped in to save her. "I think Abs and my usual MO will work well. Maintain line of sight at all times, half-hour check-ins, and no one-on-one without one of the team on your six. We'll reserve a private room for the night, as well. Allows us to control the environment if we need to, gives us a safe place to meet—interrogate, if need be."

Gibbs nodded. "Sounds like you actually thought this through, DiNozzo."

"I told you, Gibbs, I was protecting Abby." Tony met Gibbs's eyes fearlessly, something few could manage to do. Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Just remember that line of sight does not mean glaring at her all night," Tony said, dropping his voice so that only Gibbs heard him.

Gibbs's eyes were ice. "I wouldn't risk Abby, and you damn well know it. You are not going in there without me."

Tony agreed—he needed a second set of eyes. He just wasn't sure if it should be Gibbs's. If Tony went in there alone with Abby, he would spend his time worried about her and not looking out for the killer. He knew Gibbs would be tempted to protect his lab rat, too. "Its not as easy watching her have sex with someone else as you might think it would be," Tony needled Gibbs to judge his reaction.

"I've been working undercover longer than you've been—" Gibbs was cut off, thankfully, by Abby frantically signing at him.

"_Gibbs—in all seriousness, can you do this with me? I know I'm not a field agent… I'm scared. I don't want to screw up the case, I'll do what you tell me to, but I know you aren't comfortable with what I might do… But you need me. I know this place and these people. I can help_." Agitated Abby signed like she spoke—fast and tangential and with logic leaps apparent only to her. "_But this not within our usual, you know? A peck on the cheek is not the norm for this place. I mean, I can be discreet; I'm not going to parade what I'm doing in front of you. And its not like you and I have to have sex—"_

"_You have a problem with that idea, Abby?"_ In his irritation, Gibbs surprisingly found the balls to sign back.

Abby opened and shut her mouth, her hands stuttering on her response before she gave up. She was shocked to no end that Gibbs didn't seem to have a problem with that. "Uh, no—Gibbs, I didn't mean that—"

"If you have no problems with it, I have no problems with it." Gibbs downed the beer and met her eyes directly.

Stepping into the uncomfortable silence growing between Gibbs and Abby, with no knowledge of American Sign Language or what precisely had been said, Ziva decided to redirect the growing tension she sensed. "So we go in, smile and talk, and see if we can attract attention, or do we see if we can find out who our victims talked to?"

"Both," Gibbs

"How do we try to find out who the victims talked to, if we don't want people to realize who we are?" Abs asked. She was brilliant in the lab, but she had never gone undercover before. With her personality, she usually had no need for subterfuge.

Tony stepped in, giving Gibbs a moment to gather himself. He didn't understand sign language well, but he knew some, and more so, he could read people pretty well. Gibbs and Abby were going to have to work this one out on their own, and before tomorrow if the op were going to work. "Let us handle that part, Abs, if you can. All you basically do is pretend you've met the victims before, say they told you about the club or something, but then act like you don't remember their actual name—"

"See if the person you are talking with can fill in the gaps for you," Gibbs finished, shooting Tony a glare. "But we will handle the questioning. You just get us in there to do our jobs, Abs."

Abby put out an idea that has been bothering her. "What if we find nothing? What if we picked the wrong club?"

"We can't know which club, but the swingers club is easier to get into and work unnoticed." Tony reassured Abby. "If we strike out completely, we can try the BDSM club next week, and wait a week to go back to the Garden. In the meantime, we run down the names of the people we meet tomorrow."

Gibbs agreed. "We have no evidence which club it is, and I trust your instincts, Abs. You and Tony both think Garden is more likely."

"But we may still have to go to Ember, too" Abs stated. "That's going to take more planning and prep. Its not social like Garden."

Tony agreed. "No, it isn't, and yes, we will have to plan more if we need to go there—we'd have to put on a show."

"Show?" Ziva asked.

Gibbs decided to stop playing completely ignorant. "Bondage is more than handcuffs and blindfolds, Zivah. It's a mind-set. You are either a top or a bottom, and you always act it. Its less about sex and pain than you might think."

"Top? Bottom?" Ziva looked slightly confused, Abs surprised, and Tony troubled at Gibbs's knowledge.

"Dominant or submissive," Gibbs continued. "In control or controlled. And there is no mistaking one for the other."

"Unless you are a switch," Abs added, her voice less than sure in the wake of Gibbs' familiarity with the scene.

"Switch?" Ziva asked again. "How can you switch if you are only one or the other?"

Tony studied Gibbs's face. Gibbs had turned and was studying Abby at her words. Tony knew Abs was a switch. With men, she bottomed, while with most women, she topped. Gibbs already knew that Abby had been with women. Abby made it no secret, although it was not a usual occurrence for her to parade a girlfriend around. Still, it was a little different to have verbal confirmation in place of unspoken observations. "Some people switch, depending on the gender of their partner," Tony explained.

Nodding, Ziva asked, "You and Abby have been to this club as well?"

"Yes," Tony answered, not trusting his voice for more. He had a sudden image of Ziva collared and at his knees, and found the temperature in the room had risen. While his fantasy appealed to him, he wasn't sure he was man enough to actually manage it.

"Let me guess—" Ziva smirked. "Abby lets you play dominant there?" Ziva did not understand a desire to be controlled or coerced for sex; she had been used enough in her life in other contexts for it to hold no appeal for her. But the idea of someone challenging her for dominance- "It must be a nice change of pace for you, Tony, to be in charge."

Gibbs only had to _look_ at Ziva once before she stopped smiling at Tony in jest.

Tony returned her smirk verbally. "Just be glad, David, that you probably aren't going to Ember. Because you sure as hell wouldn't like playing submissive." He crowded her personal space a little, irrationally irritated by her dismissiveness.

"You don't think I could do it, do you, Tony?" Ziva rose to his baiting.

"Could you do what you were told you to do, without argument, or do whatever another dominant tells you to do if your own dom allows it?" Gibbs headed off Tony's answer. While it was not completely out of character for Gibbs to defend Tony, it was fairly rare for the defense to be so confrontational and public. "You walk behind, you sit at your dom's feet, and you do not speak unless spoken to first—unless your dom tells you to do otherwise. You do nothing without asking first and waiting for permission."

"Oh," Ziva smiled playfully, backing off Tony's personal space slightly. "Sounds like another day at work." A head slap quickly followed, causing Ziva to smile wider.

Gibbs rattled that off awfully easy, Tony noted—and he saw that Abs had noted it as well. Her lips had parted and pupils dilated a little at Gibbs's tone. Christ, Gibbs was Alpha under normal circumstances; a simple BDSM discussion, not even playing, not even his submissive, and Abby was going to cream her panties. Tony had a bad feeling that this was going to go pear-shaped, and that it would have nothing to do with the killer making them.

Ziva changed the subject. "So what type of clothing will I need for this?"

Abby jumped up and down, pigtails bobbing. "Shopping trip!" At the look on Ziva's face, she changed tack. "We can raid my closet for you, if you'd rather, but we will still have to shop for your own shoes. As for Gibbs-"

"Got it covered, Abs," Gibbs smirked.

Abs studied him. "JC Penny black chinos aren't going to work there, Gibbs."

"Said I got it covered, Abs. Do I stutter?" Gibbs asked, a gentler mocking tone than usual behind the barb.

"Okay, you got it covered." Abby raised her eyebrows and turned back to Ziva, losing themselves in an almost normal, regular girlfriends-type discussion.

Gibbs obviously was comfortable with the level of planning, because he began to gather beer bottles and paper plates up to take into the kitchen. Without the usual high tech gear, and without a suspect in mind, Tony realized, there actually wasn't that much to plan. He let Gibbs and Ziva clean up while he pulled Abby into the shadows.

"I don't like this, Abby, you realize that, right?" Tony asked her, keeping his eyes on hers.

"Neither do I, Tony. But I can't sit on my ass and do nothing while someone else gets killed—" Abby started to rev up.

Tony cut her off, quickly, so that he could say what he needed to say before Gibbs came back. "Gibbs really doesn't like it. I think you and he need to talk more before we do this, because you both need to be more comfortable with it for this to work."

Abby studied Tony, her lips pursed to one side. It was her unsure face. "What is there to say, Tony? He doesn't want to know about my sex life, and I really don't want him to know about it, either. Its just going to be—"

"Obviously uncomfortable to anyone looking at you, even strangers." Tony sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his stance as he considered his words. "And that will keep people away, that kind of energy. You need to keep that from happening."

Abby stomped her foot. "How the hell do I do that?" she practically yelled in frustration.

Tony shook his head. "Talk to Gibbs." Then he added the kicker he knew would make her do it. "Please."

Abby sighed. She knew Tony was right, but she still didn't want to actually TALK to Gibbs about this. She did, however, really want to help. And for that reason, she said goodbye to Tony and Ziva and stayed behind as they left, Tony to take Ziva home as she had ridden here with Abby.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 6/?

**Date-** 6/15/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Clearing the Air**_

Abby followed Gibbs into the kitchen, leaning against the fridge while he rinsed beer bottles and tossed them into the recycling bin. She waited for him to talk to her, or ask her what she was still doing here, or even tell her to do something to help clean up. The silence rattled her fragile nerves, and she suddenly understood why suspects broke so easily under Gibbs's silent stare in interrogation. She was ready to break from the silence alone, yet she hadn't done anything wrong.

Eventually finished with the clean up, Gibbs turned around and leaned against the kitchen sink, arms crossed. "Something you need to say to me, Abs?"

His tone was even, questioning—not angry, but not friendly, either. Abby felt even more like a suspect. "Is there something you want to hear about, Gibbs? Because something seems to be bothering you."

"Nothing I need to hear about that I haven't already heard, Abs," Gibbs pushed off the counter and headed for his basement door, where his bourbon and boat were waiting, making his way past her without further comment.

Abby hesitated several long moments before she followed him. She refused to let him brush her off, to let whatever this was fester. She needed her Gibbs, needed things right between them, especially with what they were planning to do tomorrow. She just hoped that what he had discovered about her hadn't already irreparably altered things between them forever.

Leaning her forearms against the wooden banister, Abby called down, "I know you are upset with me, Gibbs. I'm just not sure exactly why, or how to fix it." Abby let her words settle over the sawdust. When Gibbs didn't answer, she pushed him further as she started down the stairs. "Is my sleeping with Tony what has you upset?"

Gibbs continued sanding the hull planking he had begun before she had made her way down. "I'm not your father, and not your lover. Technically, I am not even your boss—you work for all NCIS teams, not just mine. So who you sleep with is your business, not mine."

Abby sighed loudly. "Then what the hell is it that has your panties in such a bunch?"

"Abs," his voice warned her that his patience was being sorely tested. He didn't have to use the words—just the way he said her name allowed her to read him like a cheap dime-novel. But, for once, she didn't care and refused to take heed. He was going to talk to her, dammit.

"Gibbs, you can't shut me out like this." Abby clumped down the last few steps, walked over, and took the sanding block out of his hands, forcing him to look at her.

While Gibbs did not stop her, he did give her a dark and angry look. "I can easily shut you out, Abby. I'm a bastard and you know it."

Abby shook her head, feeling tears pool in the corner of her eyes. He wasn't going to make this easy. Cupping his face in her hands, she refused to give up so easily. "No pulling the grumpy old man act tonight, Leroy my boy."

Gibbs's eyes darkened even more at the use of his given name. Taking Abby's hands in to his own, he practically growled at her, "You sure you want to wake this sleeping dog, Abs? You might not like him awake."

"See, this is what we do, Gibbs! We banter. We flirt. You kiss me on the cheek and life goes on." A smile briefly plastered itself across Abby's face, the dark red of her lipstick and shadows of the basement hiding the rest of her expression from Gibbs's easy view. Her voice broke a little, her fingers tightly gripping his. "I need to know—now that you know all these things about me—that you and I are okay, Gibbs. Really okay."

Gibbs took a deep breath and looked away for a minute, but didn't release her hands. Could he lie to her face convincingly enough and keep the façade up through an undercover night watching her fuck other men? Or would he break under her insistence? "We are okay, Abs."

Abby studied him solemnly for a moment. She could tell he was lying. Would she call him on it? Yes, she would, her next words confirmed. "You're lying, Gibbs. I can tell. You never lie to me." She pulled herself away from him, wrapping her arms around her middle and biting her lip. She asked the question she wasn't sure she actually wanted an answer to. "Do you think less of me now? Now that you know I have random sex with strangers in public? That sometimes I allow men to order me around and do whatever they want to me?"

The tightening around Gibbs's eyes, the pulling back of the jaw muscles as he clenched his teeth before replying, told her all. "You do," she answered her own question. "God, you do." She backed up to the steps, collapsing on the bottom one, hands covering her face. "You will never look at me the same way again."

Gibbs sighed internally. He couldn't leave it this way, couldn't let her hurt like this. But to fix this with Abby, he was going to have give up a few secrets and expose a few things about himself that he would rather Abby did not know. Because once she knew, things would change for good between them. The easiness, the banter, would be no more. She would expect things of him once she knew, things he wasn't sure he was willing (or able) to give her. And, when he failed to meet her expectations, Abby's gentle flirting would either acquire a brittle edge to it, or stop altogether.

"Abs, why do you assume that I would think any less of you?" he asked quietly from his worktable.

"Because you are a Marine, all straight arrow and honorable." Abby sniffled, tears still falling but coming under control as she tried to answer him. "Because its not normal to do what I do—to like what I like. Because I know the risks of it and do it anyway. Because, by most people's definitions, I'm a slut. " She wiped haphazardly at her face, trying to remove some of the smeared eyeliner before it looked like permanent black eyes. "You wouldn't be the first, Gibbs, believe me. And I understand why, I do, I just wish—"

"Wish that I will still love you like always and not judge you?" Gibbs made his way to her, crouched before her, cupping her face between his hands and forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Yes," she whispered. "I know you won't, anymore, but what you think matters so damn much to me, Gibbs."

He closed his eyes for a moment before answering, throwing all caution to the wind. He felt an almost physical sensation as the walls he had built around Abigail Scuito in his heart began to crumble. "I think that its okay for you to do what you want to, Abby. There is nothing wrong in what you like, or who you do it with."

Abby gasped at his words. "Gibbs?" she asked, hope in her voice. Pieces of earlier today began to fit together in that sharp mind of hers, hundreds of off-hand comments over the years clicked, instantaneously, before words confirmed it.

"I can't condemn you for things I've enjoyed myself, Abby," Gibbs answered.

Her breath caught in her throat. The tremble that passed through her body was visible. "You like to play, Gibbs?," she asked in a raspy, breathless whisper.

"I have played before, Abby, and I liked it a lot," Gibbs agreed with a sigh, sitting next to her on the step and wrapping his arm around her to pull her close. He had held her a hundred times like this, and every time, no matter how dire or light the circumstances, he felt it like an electric shock.

Just as his nerve endings adjusted to having her close, he got another jolt.

"Did you ever want to play with me?" Her voice was tiny and wavered, as if she wasn't sure she should ask, but couldn't resist not knowing.

It was a question he had eventually expected, but hadn't yet worked out how to answer. Honesty scared the shit out of him here, but Abby had a Gibbs bullshit detector as good as his gut when she chose to employ it. "I've flirted with you for years, Abs."

Abby let out a long, deep breath. "I didn't know if it was serious—if you meant more by it. I thought it was just wishful thinking on my part. I mean, I'm not exactly your type, Gibbs."

"Shannon and Jen were the only real redheads," Gibbs mildly joked.

"You know what I mean," Abby gently scolded. "You tend to date more—professional, cultured women. Designer clothes, fancy jewelry. I don't think there was a visible tattoo in the bunch of them—"

"I date independent, smart women who can make me laugh and challenge me, Abs." Gibbs thought, _"In for a penny, in for a pound"_ to himself. If he was baring secrets, why not just be done with them all? "The only difference between you and them is that I'm not old enough to be their father."

Abby smiled at him, a real smile at his compliment to her. "You are way hotter than any dad I've met," she giggled.

"Hot or not, still old enough to be yours," he joked badly.

"That doesn't bother me, Gibbs," Abby gave him a smoky, upturned glance. "Not at all."

"Maybe it bothers me a little, Abs," Gibbs shot back. "I look at you, and I see someone who should be with a man who can share your zest for life. You should still be in the prime of your life and enjoying it about the time I end up ready for the nursing home."

"We both know you aren't going to any home, Gibbs," Abby stated in a serious tone. "You'll find a way to go down fighting first."

Gibbs ceded the honesty in her statement, rather than challenge it. "I would rather go out that way, true, but the point is—"

"We're too different," Abby sighed. "You think the differences are too much to make it work. And you aren't willing to even give it a try."

Gibbs brushed a kiss against her temple. "Its not that I'm not willing to try, just that I'm not willing to risk what we have now if things don't work out. And let's face it, with my record, not working out is a distinct possibility."

"I don't think you have the option to stick your head in the sand anymore, Gibbs." Abby pulled away from him and stood up. "Things can't go back the way they were now that we both know these things about each other. And if they can't go back, maybe we should try and do something new, to make things better."

"Are you saying you want to be with me, Abs?" Gibbs clarified, almost scared of her response.

"I have wanted you for years, Gibbs." Abby leaned down and kissed him, full on the lips yet timidly. "But if you didn't come to me first—I didn't feel that I could come to you. Not about this. I'm the…submissive one, here."

Gibbs felt his loins tighten as she admitted her submission to him. This was the danger—how much he wanted Abby, how much he wanted her _that way_. The real question, to him, was whether or not an old man like him could ever be enough for a woman like Abby. "So if I came to you now—asked you—"

"I'm yours," Abby answered.

There were a few minutes of silence, as each thought through the ramifications. "This could complicate the mission," Gibbs stated, amazed that his mood at this revelation could be dampened by anything.

Abby disagreed. "I think us working this out is the only way the mission will work at all. All the tension between us would keep people away, Gibbs. No matter who I'm with, I'm going to be thinking about you watching me—thinking about being with you…"

If possible, Gibbs got harder. "Then Garden will be easy to survive. But Ember—"

"You can't top me there, not yet." Gibbs could hear the regret in her voice. "I want you to, but they know Tony and I. Tony doesn't bottom. And Ziva—I don't think she really bottoms, either. They can't partner up there. It would be a disaster of ginormous proportions."

Gibbs agreed with her assessment. "Tony and Ziva wouldn't be able to work it out and concentrate on the case. Although I think Ziva is more bottom than you do."

"Is that experience talking, my silver haired fox?" Abby cooed at him. Yes, cooed.

"Ability to read people, Abs," Gibbs laughed. "But Ziva won't submit easily. I'm not sure DiNozzo has it in him to make her."

"He doesn't think so, either. I can tell. I think he could—speaking from my own experience there—but it would test him." Abby sighed. "So- it has to be you and Ziva. We have to wait."

"I don't want to wait. I want you, Abs," Gibbs brushed a gentle kiss against her lips, retracing the movements a second time with more force. "God, I do. Not just in a scene- just for a scene—but in every way. But-"

Abby kissed him back, more insistent. "I don't want it to be part of an undercover assignment, either. I want it to be for real," she breathed the words against him as he deepened the kiss.

Gibbs gripped her hips, probably hard enough to bruise, but now he knew she wouldn't mind. Pulling her into his lap, making her straddle him against the steps, he continued to make love to her with his mouth. Begging entrance with his tongue, he mapped her mouth, memorizing the reactions each movement caused, testing the ones again that garnered the most reaction. He was lost in the feel of her, and they hadn't removed a single article of clothing yet.

He knew that this was it, that he couldn't avoid the seductive power of Abigail Scuito anymore. Pulling away from her, leaning his forehead against hers as he caught his breath, he asked, "Stay with me tonight, Abs?"

He felt the tremor pass through her at his words. "Yes," she answered, pulling back far enough to look him directly in the eye. With a last intense kiss, she rose from his lap and allowed him to stand. He took her hand to lead her upstairs, past the guestroom she was so familiar with, and into his bedroom.


	8. Chapter 7

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 7/?

**Date-** 6/17/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Four-Part II**_

_**Clearing the Air**_

The minute the door clicked behind them, Gibbs had Abby pressed against it, his mouth and hands everywhere, overwhelming her senses. Ten years of pent up attraction was spilling out all at once. She just needed to take a step back, to catch her breath, to think for a minute—

But he didn't let her. Sliding his thigh between her legs, pressing against her center and pinning her in place, he pulled her thin t-shirt over her head and threw it to a dark corner of the room. Gibbs lowered his mouth so that his tongue could trace the lacey edge of her black bra, burrowing beneath and nudging it down to expose more of her milky cleavage. As the straps trailed over her shoulders, slipping lower, Gibbs snapped open the front clasp, baring all her glory to him.

Abby gave up any wish for a moment to collect herself as soon as Gibbs found her pebbled right nipple with his mouth and clamped on. He didn't suck on the piercing itself, a disappointing mistake past lovers had often made; rather, he took the entire areola in with a light bite, using his tongue to manipulate and tug on the metal bar. While his heated manipulation on the right one almost drove her to orgasm by itself as she ground hard against his thigh, his other hand found its way to her left breast. Working in concert with his mouth, Abby quickly found herself gasping and desperate, begging for release, and Gibbs smirking up at her.

"No, Abs. Not yet." Gibbs's voice held a depth she had not heard before, a darkness that set her further on the edge of pleasure. "I want to be inside you when you go over." Ever the gentleman, not even crude during the act.

"Then please—I want you inside me, NOW." Abby managed to pant out as she held herself back, trying to comply with his wishes. "I don't know if I can wait much longer—"

And then the Alpha Gibbs voice growled in her ear. "If you can't wait, then you won't know tonight what it feels like to have me really make love to you."

Abby's breath froze at his words. "Make love to me?" she asked, her voice unsure, but from emotion rather than physical sensation. The world seemed to slow with her and wait for Gibbs's answer.

Gibbs brought his mouth up to her ear, hot breath brushing against her in an enticing way that almost—almost—distracted. "I love you, Abs. Always have, always will. There is no other way to describe what I want to do to you tonight."

A shudder restarted her respiration. Leaning her cheek against Gibbs's, she closed her eyes. "I can hold out, Gibbs. I don't wanna miss out on making love to you tonight." She felt the smile against her before she heard the low chuckle.

"I thought so," he whispered, licking the shell of her ear. Drawing her bra down and over her arms, freeing Abby's top half completely to his gaze, Gibbs's attacked her neck with teeth and tongue, making mild marks across the white acres of skin exposed as he made his way lower, kneeling by the end. As he hit the barrier of her little plaid skirt, he barely paused to find and release the zipper, allowing the offending garment to pool around her feet. Helping her step out of the skirt, he eased the zipper on her platform boots down and removed them quickly. The resulting drop in Abby's height brought her thong-covered mound directly in line with Gibbs's mouth, and he could smell her arousal heavy on the air.

Sliding hands beneath the sides of the thong, Gibbs pulled the barrier down slowly, following its progress with feather kisses down each leg, as well as sliding off the last bit of her clothing at the same time—her thigh highs. Once she was fully stripped, Gibbs leaned back on his heels to gaze up at her creamy, supple, extended length.

He hesitated a moment too long for Abby's liking. Her hooded green eyes opened and gazed down at him. "Gibbs?" she asked, breathless.

Gibbs responded with action rather than words, parting her thighs and exposing her center to his mouth. Subtle kisses before working deeper, harder with his tongue caused Abby to grip his silver hair tightly. Her head fell back and mouth opened, panting. Gibbs slipped one, then two, fingers inside her. Pressing against her bundle of nerves, he elicited a gasp from her. Circling it, setting a slow, steady pace, Gibbs matched his interior ministrations with the motions of his tongue. He drove Abby to begging. She pleaded for him to finish her off, let her come, but he kept at it, never increasing the speed or pressure, expertly driving her closer to the edge without letting her fall over it, until her knees began to give out. Slowly calming her raging body down, letting her drift back to herself and awareness and not be subsumed by sheer physical WANT, he made his way back up her body.

Gibbs was still fully clothed, though, and aching for her. He left her leaning against the wooden door, now warm with their shared body heat, as he took a step back and removed his sweatshirt, socks, and shoes. Standing only in faded jeans, lean and muscled in a real-life (not gym earned) way, Abby's mouth went dry. Gibbs was—Gibbs. What he was—protector, Alpha, silver haired fox, friend, lover, beloved—was what she had been looking for the entire time he had been off limits. She finally felt as if she had found—

Home. Gibbs's arms was where she had always felt safe, loved, and at peace. The tremor in her long frame had nothing to do with the lack of clothing or temperature in the room, or even the look of longing in Gibbs's blue-eyed gaze. It had everything to do with her sudden realization that she was meant to be with this man forever, before actual intercourse was even involved.

He understood her in a way that no one else ever had. That was how he, too, felt the moment of epiphany without words, recognized that this was about more than tonight.

He realized that she needed him to be the man he was without any games or role-play just then, to allow her to show him the depth of their connection. Abby stepped to him, unbuttoning and removing his jeans, then pushing him towards the bed. She fell along with him to the mattress, naked limbs entangled. Gibbs let Abby straddle his body with hers, to slip his erect member within her depths, to control the pace.

But as he had demanded, she did not orgasm until he was ready to let her go, until he commanded her to do so in her ear. Neither Gibbs nor Abby had ever felt such a tremendous release as he followed her over, his vision gone white with pleasure while time felt unmeasured, the moment stretching far longer than it truly could be.

Gibbs pulled Abby down against his side, draping her against him and pulling a sheet to cover them. Exhaustion quickly claimed them both.


	9. Chapter 8

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 8/?

**Date-** 6/19/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Four- Part III**_

_**Clearing the Air**_

Abby felt the sun's warmth on her face from a different angle than usual. As her eyes fluttered open to investigate, she found Gibbs's baby blues studying her. "Morning, Abs," he brushed a kiss against her forehead and ran his hand lightly down her arm.

Remembering last night, Abs smiled at him widely. "Hey, Gibbs."

Gibbs turned on his back and motioned Abby to move up onto his chest. Keeping his arm solidly wrapped around her, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Abby. "You better not be ready to tell me what a mistake we've made—"

The low, throaty chuckle ended her tirade quickly. "No, Abs, I'm not gonna say that was a mistake. I might ask why the hell I waited so long to let you know how I feel about you, but the sex was NOT a mistake."

Tense muscles relaxing, Abby lay back against him once more. "Good." She let her fingers wind themselves through his chest hair for a moment before adding, "Then what were you going to say?"

"Do you want to shower first?" Gibbs smiled crookedly at her. "Or make coffee?"

Abby's hand made its way lower on Gibbs's body, caressing him in strata—playfully tracing ribs, one at a time; stroking firmly across his still nearly six-pack six pack; circling his belly button lightly; and then tip-toeing her fingers down the path of his "goody trail." Gibbs allowed her free reign, enjoying the feel of her hands exploring him, until she grasped his hard member and gently pumped him. His breath caught in his throat as he let out a low moan, neither coffee nor shower now a priority.

Taking the sound as an indication to continue, Abby eased her body down his, never stopping her ministrations. Ordinarily not the aggressor in their relationship, she found a feeling of some power in how quickly Gibbs's responded to her touch. While last night has been a dream come true, the confines and needs of the physical body forced limits. Mentally, Abby could have spent hours lost in getting to know Gibbs's body last night; the physical the strain of confronting Gibbs about her choice of lifestyles and his reaction to her revelations had put a damper on her ability to actually follow through with that desire. And Gibbs being Gibbs—well, he hadn't given her a chance to yet. So she decided that, with her batteries recharged, she was going to see if he would allow it now.

Even, steady pressure up and down his shaft with her hand continued without missing a beat as she settled between his legs, situating herself comfortably. "Y'know, Gibbs, last night was like a dirty dream come true….but there is one thing I never got to for you that I've wanted to do for years." She dipped her head and engulfed his cock following as her hand on its downward stroke. Her eyes never lost contact with his as she worked him up and down. Each pass, she took him further in, until he could feel the muscle of her throat clench around him.

Low moans turned to growls as Gibbs found it difficult to not thrust into Abby's wet warmth. This was on his short wish-list of things to do with Abby. While his version had her on her knees in front of him and her hands restrained while he fucked her mouth, unrestrained, he was highly appreciative of her oral skills just like this, too.

There was a time and place for everything, and now—they had all the time in the world. This was a marathon, not a race; he could enjoy his morning surprise, allow Abby to have her way, and still, at some point, indulge his own fantasy later. Again, this new relationship between them needed time to blossom and grow, and while the both enjoyed games, right now was about building their long-standing affection for each other into a stronger, more permanent bond.

He wouldn't risk that for quick fulfillment of a random fantasy. He had a boatload of 'em, and was willing to wait. Especially when this felt so damn good. Too good, in fact. He wasn't going to last long if Abby kept that up. "Abs—" he managed to gasp. "If you want to do anything else this morning before work, you are going to have to stop that very soon."

Abby's smile was smoldering, delivered around a full mouth. She answered his request with a deeper-than-previous pass, just as she increased her speed a little. Her tongue swirled around him, tracing the ridge of his head before taking him deeply in again. She worked him hard and fast, never letting up, and he lost it. She took it all, hungrily, and then cleaned him up with her tongue as well before moving up to curl against his side once more, arm draped across his chest.

Once both their breathing had returned to normal, she rose up on one arm and studied Gibbs's satisfied countenance. Abby playfully tapped Gibbs on the chest to get his attention and answered his earlier question. "I don't want to deal with you without your coffee. I'll shower."

"You aren't the only person who has told me that, Abs," Gibbs shook his head, chuckling. "Once I can actually stand up and walk, I'll make coffee while you shower, and then—"

"We'll talk," Abby stated knowingly, rising from the bed and leaving the sheets behind. Stretching, arms above her head and totally exposed for Gibbs's perusal, Abby turned to make her way to the bathroom. She gave Gibbs a saucy look as she deliberated and provocatively sauntered away.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed, as he watched her walk away. "Then we'll talk."

~~~~~NCIS~~~~~NCIS~~~~~NCIS~~~~~

The smell of brewing coffee and frying bacon wafted up to the bedroom and hit Abby like a physical wall as soon she stepped out of the steamy bathroom. She threw on one of Gibbs's t-shirts, which hung long enough on her to be a dress, and a pair of his boxer briefs. The briefs hung low and she had to roll the waist, but they were clean and Gibbs's, and that was good enough for her. Heading downstairs, Gibbs greeted her with an unexpectedly domestic site—table set for breakfast, him standing by the stove in boxers and an undershirt, and the newspaper folded on the counter next to his reading glasses. She took a moment to soak it in, unsure if she would get to see such a sight again.

"I didn't know you knew how to cook beyond charring a steak in your fireplace," she said lightly, making her way around Gibbs to the coffee maker and the empty mug next to it.

Gibbs scooped the bacon out and put it on a napkin-lined plate. "Keep that sass up, missy, and you can go hungry this morning."

His playful words settled her stomach a little. She had been having dreadful thoughts in the shower of how Gibbs was going to let her down easy this morning, despite their earlier fun, and how she would disgrace herself if he did so. "Oh, can't have that. I had quite the workout between last night and this morning. I am starving!"

Abby slid into her seat as Gibbs placed her bacon and eggs on her plate. He simply smiled at her, a real smile with that twinkle of true happiness in his eye that he so rarely got. Maybe, Abby prayed, this talk wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Abs-" Jethro started, then paused. "Thank you for your help with this case. We wouldn't be able to do this without you."

"No problemo, bossman," Abby answered, a little unsettled by his tone and choice of topics with which to start.

"Not bossman now, Abs," Gibbs gently reprimanded her. "Tonight—this is going to be difficult."

Abby considered his words. "But you said that you played before—you know then that—"

"Its not that part, Abs," he interrupted. "Its that I'd rather be with you than pretending to be with Ziva. I know we're there on a case, but if there's a naked Abby playing nearby…it's going to be hard to keep my head in the game."

Her face coloring slightly, she asked, "Do you want to cancel this, then?"

"No," Gibbs shook his head. "No. I just want to warn you ahead of time that I might be—

difficult to deal with tonight."

"You apologized," Abby felt her heart race. "You apologized for something you haven't even done yet!"

Gibbs took her hand, the one not holding the sharp fork, and gripped it. "It's a heads up, Abs, not an apology. They're not the same thing. I just—I don't want to upset you, don't want to jeopardize this" he motioned between the two of them. "When I am working a case—I have to think of the case first, and I might not realize how things look or sound to you at the time. I might not even remember to think about how it looks or sounds to you before I act. I just don't want to screw things up before we really get started."

A real smile and laugh of relief answered him. "Got it. I promise that I won't get mad if you go all snarky and start PMSing, okay?"

"Good," Gibbs answered, brushing a quick kiss against her forehead before sitting down and eating his own breakfast slowly before they got ready and headed into the office to check in.


	10. Chapter 9

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 9/?

**Date-** 6/20/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Five**_

_**Trust Between Partners**_

The drive from Gibbs's house to Ziva's apartment wasn't long. When Ziva drove it, it was ten minutes; Tony's safer and more sedate driving took nearly twenty-five. The extra time allowed Ziva the opportunity to quiz Tony in more detail about the club situation and Abby's role in all this. "So you and Abby have been dating?" she asked innocently enough. "I did not think you would ever break one of Gibbs's rules for a mere woman."

Tony spared her a glance as he drove. "We did not and are not dating. Twelve is still intact."

"But you slept with her, no?" Ziva asked, closely watching Tony's reaction. His jaw tensed as he grit his teeth before answering; it was his way of working past frustration, she had observed. While she could honestly tell from his reaction—and the lack of Abby's spilling the beans to Ziva about Tony—that her two co-workers were not, in fact, an item. But as Ziva well knew, sex did not require any type of relationship.

"A gentleman does not kiss and tell, Ziva," Tony evaded.

"So you at least kissed, then-" Ziva mocked gently in a teasing tone.

Tony abruptly switched lanes, jostling Ziva in her seat. "I have had sex with Abigail Scuito. We are not in a relationship. Happy?" he spat out, his tone defensive.

"Gibbs wasn't happy when he found out, was he?" Ziva guessed, based on Tony's tone.

"No," Tony signaled a turn, pulling onto the road that led to Ziva's apartment. "And neither was I."

Ziva considered her partner's demeanor. Where he would normally boast of any conquest he had made, to anyone who would listen, he had never even joked inappropriately about Abby that Ziva could remember. How long had this been going on? "Why? Abby is not your usual type, after all."

"Abby is a good friend." Tony pulled into Ziva's parking lot, taking a visitor's spot nearest the door. "Things just sort of—happened. She trusted me to watch her back, and I wanted to make sure she was safe. So I went to the clubs with her—well, not WITH her, at first—"

"Then how?" Ziva pressed.

Tony could sense that his answer was important to her, although he was unsure why it was. "The Garden—it's a lot of group sex stuff, Ziva. Even just there to watch her back, keeping an eye on her sometimes meant getting a little close. I wasn't pushing any boundaries with her, though. It was her idea. I would never have brought it up to her."

"Why not? It seems natural, given where you were going and what you were doing there—or she was—" Ziva gave Tony the benefit of the doubt.

Tony considered his words. Honest and open with Ziva was a new thing—since Jeanne, since Somalia, it had sporadically happened, but either she or he tended to shove it away and stick to the Lone Wolf mentality. Frankly, he was getting tired of keeping the walls up. One thing Abby had taught him to truly value was honesty—and that less than honest never turned out well. "What I was doing, too. Just not with her, at first. After Jeanne…well, let's just say, another relationship was not what I wanted right then. Random, anonymous sex is kinda my MO."

"Then why with Abby?" Ziva pushed him further.

"Random and anonymous isn't all its cracked up to be," Tony admitted. "But I wasn't ready for another relationship. It worked well for both of us."

"But you never said anything, Tony. I am your partner!" Ziva was getting a little irritated. This was another secret he had kept from her, one on top of all the others, beginning with Jeanne and still, apparently, not ending.

"Ziva—" Tony sighed. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to get teased by you about getting back on the dating horse. And Abby deserves better than to be the subject of gossip because of the likes of me." Tony turned the car keys to off. "And I didn't want to end up dead when Gibbs found out."

"Point taken, about Gibbs," Ziva acknowledged. "But Abby is my friend, too. Do you really think I would gossip about her?"

"I figured you'd think I took advantage of her and kick my ass, actually," Tony admitted. "I'm not exactly your favorite person."

Ziva nodded quickly, reluctantly admitting that Tony might be right about her as well. "But you are a good man at heart, Tony DiNozzo. After all, you came all the way to Somalia on a rumor to save me."

Studying the dashboard, Tony paused before answering. "I thought you were dead, Ziva. The Damocles was reported down with all hands."

"Then why did you go there? Why did the three of you go to that forsaken desert?" Ziva asked, disbelief in her voice. Why had any of them put themselves into such danger? Somalia had not been discussed, at her wish, beyond sincere thanks to her team. She had not been ready, when she first came home, and later—it seemed too much to dredge up, for all of them, given everything else that had gone on at the time. Now, however, she needed to know.

Tony licked suddenly dry lips before replying. "To avenge you, Ziva. To be able to mourn you properly. To know what had happened and not have to wonder."

The emotion behind his words made Ziva's breathing uneven. "Why was that so important? Why risk your life for a corpse?"

"Because it was _**your**_ corpse, dammit!" Tony slammed his hands against the dashboard.

"Tony—" Ziva placed her hand on his arm, waiting for him to face her. "I would like you to come up, and we can have a drink. I think I am finally ready to talk about Somalia.


	11. Chapter 10

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 10/?

**Date-** 6/21/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Five- Part II**_

_**Trust Between Partners**_

Not sure what to expect, and suddenly feeling every last second of stress from the day in tired muscles, Tony accepted a glass of red wine and sat on the sofa next to Ziva. The reason for the visit to her place, the conversation from the car, was lost for a few minutes in hostess duties. Once Ziva settled on the sofa, legs crossed and back against the opposite arm to face Tony, he steeled himself to hear the ugly words he knew were coming.

"Somalia was hell," Ziva began. "Daily beatings—torture—everything you think it was, it was." Ziva drank deeply from her wine glass. "But I was trained for the eventuality of capture already. I knew what to expect. And I have recovered. I have seen a therapist—I have physically healed."

"So now you're just right as rain?" Tony asked skeptically.

Ziva nodded. "Peachy, I think is another of your idioms? At least, as long as it is daytime. Night, it goes not so well."

"Nightmares?" Tony asked.

"Yes." Ziva drank again, more of a sip this time than a gulp. "But I am dealing with them."

"Then what am I here to discuss?" Tony asked, confused and not entirely trusting Ziva's tone and words.

"There is one thing that I have not fully recovered from." Ziva's eyes fastened themselves to his, a dark whirlpool of emotion. "I need your help for that."

An inkling began to form in Tony's head, and he wasn't sure he liked what he was thinking. Ziva's next few words confirmed his growing fear and excitement.

"I have not had sexual intercourse since I was violated in Somalia." Ziva barely blinked, holding his gaze by sheer force of will, because he wanted to look anywhere but in her eyes. "I do not think this undercover work is a problem for me. I do not feel uncomfortable at the thought of what might be required of me. Sex is just—sex."

"Then what do you need my help for?" Tony's voice was tense and low.

"I do not want my first time since being repeatedly raped to be with a stranger under false pretenses in front of an audience." Ziva took his wine glass and put it next to hers on the coffee table. "I want it to be with someone I trust. I want it to mean something. I am afraid that if I do not try to heal this part of myself, I may never be truly whole."

"Are you saying that you trust me?" Tony asked. The idea that Ziva trusted him with something this personal shook him to his core. He knew that in the field, they shared absolute trust. That had never been an issue as partners. He and Ziva only had difficulty when it came to personal lives and personality issues.

Ziva shifted to lean in to Tony, brushing her lips against his gently. "I trust you with my life every day. Somehow, trusting you with my body seems redundant at that point, does it not?"

Tony shrugged, looking young and unsure in the moment. "I guess so."

"So will you help me as you helped Abby?' Ziva's voice was low, but shaky.

"Why me, Ziva? Why not—" Tony nervously asked, trying to order his mind before Ziva sent it shattered to the four winds. He was afraid of her answer. It could smash him, or smash Rule #12. "Gibbs? Or even McGee? I'm not the only man you trust…"

"I find you attractive, Tony, and I thought you found me so, as well. After all, we have flirted for years." Ziva's breath hitched. "I am comfortable with you in a way that I am not with anyone else."

Tony let out his breath. "Are you sure about this, Ziva? I'm not gonna wake up tomorrow and find pictures of me tied to your bed plastered all over the office?" He knew as soon as he said it that humor was not the way to go. Her bodied stiffened and she began to pull away. "Ziva—"

"I am sorry if this would be too onerous for you, Tony—"

"I was trying to joke, Ziva. I tend to do that when I am uncomfortable." Tony wrapped an arm around Ziva's slight frame and pulled her to his side, her head leaning against his chest.

"I do not wish to make you uncomfortable," Ziva whispered.

"Its not a bad uncomfortable, Ziva," Tony sighed. "Its just that we are crossing a pretty big line here. Its scary."

"You are frightened of Gibbs's reaction?" Ziva asked.

"Surprisingly, no." Tony chuckled. "If he didn't kill me for sleeping with Abs, I think he'll be okay with you and I sleeping together. But will you be? We are partners—this can't effect work—"

"It will not, Tony," Ziva snuggled further into his side.

"Is this a one-time thing?" Tony asked, his voice soft and uncertain.

Ziva already knew he was going to agree at that question. "I was hoping a two or three time thing, at least, before the morning."

Tony laughed out loud. "I finally get to prove to you that I do not idly brag!"

Pulling Tony up, and leading him into her bedroom, Ziva smiled. "I was hoping it was not all exaggeration…."


	12. Chapter 11

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 11/?

**Date-** 6/25/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Five—Part III**_

_**Trust Between Partners**_

Tony was not surprised at the simplicity and taste of Ziva's bedroom, but took a moment to look around in order to give himself a chance to catch a mental breath. He never in a million years ever thought he would really be here, in Ziva David's bedroom, at HER request, to have sex. He loved her—like Gibbs loved Abby—and had never entertained a serious thought about managing to win her heart. He was a realist, despite his ability and joy in losing himself in Hollywood fluff, and he knew Ziva was entirely out of his league.

Except that he was now, as he turned to face Ziva, in the middle of her bedroom watching her slowly unbutton her tailored work blouse to expose a plain, white cotton bra. The white enhanced the natural olive tan of her skin, drawing his attention to the swell of her breasts.

Dark eyes glittering at him, Ziva allowed the blouse to slide off her shoulders and to the floor, her bra quickly following. Shimmying out of faded jeans and a thong to match the bra, stepping away from the pooled mass at her feet, Ziva smiled and tried to joke in the face of Tony's breath catching in his throat at the sight. "Do you like what you see, Tony?"

The playful side of Tony emerged and shoved the love-struck romantic deep down again. "Several somethings, David," he stated in a low, sexy voice as he approached her. He stopped mere inches from her, allowing her one last chance to change her mind. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, meeting her eyes without wavering.

Ziva's smile reached those eyes as she answered. "I am disappointed already, Tony. I did not think that, given the chance to 'get into my pants,' that you would hesitate or waste a moment in idle words." She stepped up to him, sliding her hands around him and running them down and then back up his sides. Allowing her hands to run through his short hair, she captured his neck and pulled him down to her shorter stature. Pressing a kiss lightly against his lips, she begged permission for entrance with her tongue.

Tony immediately complied, his hands cradling her face and soon fighting for dominance with her for the kiss. He didn't pull away until the need for oxygen became too great. Even then, he merely pressed his forehead to hers, refusing to give up any contact. "Bed," he panted.

"Clothes off first, Tony," Ziva answered. "You have far too many still on." Her hands traced a path up and, after unknotting his silk tie, she began to slowly unbutton his dress shirt. Pushing it off him, she reached for the lower edge of his white undershirt and made quick work of removing it. Once it was removed, she resumed kissing the day lights out of him, gently herding him toward her king-sized, thousand count sheeted bed.

He was not prepared for it, and fell down on his back as soon as his knees hit the edge of the bed. Ziva followed him down gracefully, straddling him and barely missing a beat of their kiss. Tony's hands automatically went to her hips, pulling her down to his hardness. Ziva pulled back from him, studying him with those dark and mysterious eyes as her hands made their way to his fly.

Stilling her movements, Tony rolled them over so that Ziva was gently pressed against he mattress beneath him. "I take a challenge very seriously, Ziva. I plan to show you exactly what I have to brag about tonight, but that means you are going to have to let me lead." Once Ziva nodded her acquiescence, Tony moved her to the side, rose from the bed, and shucked off his dress pants and boxers. Her eyes admired his form as he, in turn, took her all in, memorizing the night in case this never happened again. He didn't expect it to, no matter how much he wished for it.

Standing at the end of the bed and looking up at Ziva's flushed appearance, Tony found himself harder than he had been in quite some time, all at the thought that he had this effect on her. He was always a gentlemanly lover, taking great care for his partner's pleasure, but this time was different. He wanted Ziva, yes, and he would have her before the end of the night; but this was about HER. He would give her pleasure before taking his own, and then some.

Crawling up the mattress towards Ziva, Tony settled between her thighs and gently spread them. Most men would go in directly for the kill—straight to her nerve bundle and try to force an orgasm as quickly as possible. But Tony knew subtle was best, that slow sensuality would be more effective for Ziva. So he kissed, licked and caressed every inch of her inner thighs, down to the sensitive soft skin behind the knees and back again before blowing a hot breath across her mound.

Ziva's breath had hitched during his ministrations, small gasps and light moans audible over the slick sounds of his mouth against her flesh. As he parted her nether lips and gently teased her swollen clit, Ziva's hands ran through his hair roughly. As she applied pressure, he resisted, continuing his leisurely place. Slipping a finger inside her, finding her more than ready, he added another, then another. Fucking her gently with his fingers, he began to speed up both mouth and hand, one keeping pace with the other. Tony could feel the tightening of her muscles beneath him. As she rode the edge of her orgasm, Tony caught her hand in his free one. Entwining their fingers, he squeezed them together as she finally broke for him, proving that she really was a screamer after all.

Allowing Ziva a few minutes to calm down, he continued to lap at her juices as he felt her body slowly relax. A tug on his arm brought him up the bed to lay next to her. Draping his arm across the flat of her toned stomach, Tony took in the sight before him. Her dark hair was a tangled halo against the pillow. The breath she was still trying to recover caused a rapid rise and fall of her chest, allowing her breasts to jiggle (there was no better word for it) delightfully. Tony couldn't help but lean over to gently suckle at first one rosy tip, then the other.

Her sharp intake of breath, coupled with a shiver, caused him to suck harder and allow his hand to wander south again. Alternating breasts, Tony's finger kept a steady pace rubbing against Ziva's clit more harshly than before. It took less time to wring another strong orgasm from her than it did the first time, given her now-increased sensitivity. Tony was tempted to try for a third, but Ziva pulled his mouth to hers before he could begin.

"God, Tony-" Ziva managed to get out between kisses. "And that was just foreplay!"

Smiling crookedly, Tony laughed. She was so beautiful like this. "Have I met your expectations so far, Ziva? I wouldn't want to disappoint, after all these years of waiting for a chance to show off for you."

"All these years?" she questioned. "So it was not simply empty flirting, then?"

The tenor in her voice changed subtly, and Tony had a moment of hope that he shoved down deep. "Hope springs eternal, David. I doubted I had a chance, but just in case…"

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she laughed. "I think I am now regretting so many years of shutting you out, Tony."

Chuckling himself, Tony corrected her idioms once again. "Shutting me down, not out."

"Down," she agreed, smiling. The laugh died slowly, thought, and seriousness crept into her tone. "If I had simply allowed myself to open up to you earlier—"

"Things between us happened the way they were meant to, Ziva." Tony tucked her against his side, pillowing her head against his chest. "Three years ago—if I had managed to snake my way into your bed, you would have killed me the next morning. I'm not proud of how I used to be. I'm glad that I finally grew up. Now I know how to appreciate the finer things in life."

Ziva smiled against him. "I am glad that you have grown up, too, Tony. I am not happy with events that lead to it, but the Anthony DiNozzo of today is a much better man."

The moment of emotion needed to be broken, or he might embarrass himself and actually

admit to his feelings for her. "Ready for another round?" Tony asked her, smirking with a gleam in his eye as he began to move down on the bed again.


	13. Chapter 12

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 12/?

**Date-** 6/27/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Five—Part IV**_

_**Trust Between Partners**_

Tony was amazed at Ziva's enthusiasm and stamina. He had held himself in check, enjoying watching her pleasure and ignoring his own, for several more orgasms. He was mindful of what her treatment at Saleem's hands had probably been like, and avoided any actions that would bring memories back to her. Tony played many ways, and enjoyed many things; even as he treated Ziva with sexual kidd gloves, he had to wonder if she would really be able to hack Ember, if it came to that. He half hoped it would, as he also hoped it would not, for her sake.

But he shook himself out of it quickly, as Ziva pulled him into a deep kiss even as she gasped to catch her breath after her last orgasm, his focus solely on his partner. Her delicate tongue, the softness of her lips, her lack of shame in the taste of herself on him—coupled with his prior restraint, Tony felt the edges of his control fraying. He needed some space before he lost it totally. Pulling away from her, leaning his forehead to hers, Tony studied her. "Have I met your expectations now, Ziva?" he asked.

She smiled, widely, but with hooded eyes. Her voice, scratchy from her vocal reactions to him, was as sexy as her nakedness pressed up against him. "I won't deny that you seem to deserve your reputation…but no, you have not yet met my expectations."

Tony's eyes widened in disbelief as she quickly continued. "You are a master in the art of foreplay…you know exactly how to please a woman." Turning on her side, Ziva looked away shyly. "But I need more than foreplay, Tony. I need you…want you…to take me. As many times as you have given me pleasure tonight, you have taken none. Do you not want me?" Her eyes darted back to his, searching their green depths before she felt the need to close them or look away.

In answer, Tony pulled Ziva into a hard embrace. "I wanted to erase what he did to you. I want to make sure you remember what real men are like—not monsters—before I do anything to you that he did."

Ziva could not prevent the tears from leaking past her closed eyes. Tony had far surpassed her expectations of him as a lover—in the true sense of the word, and not just in terms of sex. Tony cared for her enough to deny himself without a second thought. "Tony-" her voice trembled a little, and its unsteadiness brought Tony's arms more tightly around her. "You have erased it all. He never touched me for pleasure, only to hurt and break me. The others—they did it for the same reasons, as harshly as possible."

Shit, Tony thought. Saleem being the only one had been a painful enough thought, but to know that what he had assumed was truth—the sole woman in a camp of violent men had been brutally used as a community resource—was even worse. How could he ever heal Ziva of trauma like that? How could anyone?

"You have made me remember what it is like to be touched by a man for my pleasure. But I also need you to take me as a man would, Tony. I need to also know that I can give you pleasure that does not come from my pain." Her body trembled slightly.

Rolling onto his back, Tony pulled Ziva with him. Thank god she wanted him. He had done his best for her, and had felt guilt that he wanted to take his own pleasure soon, because he didn't want to use Ziva as Saleem had. But her words made him realize that the intent was as important as the action, and his intentions were as pure as carnal ones ever got. "I think I remember you mentioning you like being on top…" he tried to leer, but her smile ruined it.

Ziva rose on her knees to straddle Tony's legs, keeping his hard and straining cock free. Seeing her above him, hair wild and eyes flashing, Tony felt like he was in a wet dream. How many times had he pictured just this, thinking it would never be more than a fantasy? Then Ziva grasped his swollen member in her petite hand, stroking him from base to tip with an exquisite pressure. His sudden and sharp intake of breath made her smile wider and move her hand again. Tony's sudden arching off the bed made her chuckle. "My, oh my," she commented. "Then I wonder what doing _this_ will make you do."

Ziva lowered her mouth and engulfed his cock head so quickly that Tony had barely managed to process the words, let alone her intent. The unexpected wet warmth suddenly surrounding him caused him to groan, "Fuck, Ziva!" His usual eloquence was lost in the sensation of her.

Tony felt her quick smile against him, before she turned her attention back to her self-appointed task. He knew with the buildup of the night that he couldn't allow her to do this for long, or he would lose it before being inside her. As he felt the electrical pulse begin to arc up his spine, panting, he asked her to stop. "Ziva, you have to stop. I'm too close—"

Ziva paused, looking up at him. "I want to do this for you, Tony."

Tony shook his head negatively. "I want to be inside you," his please was unstated.

Nodding, Ziva immediately released him, rising further on her knees to make her way higher up on Tony's much taller body. Balancing herself above him, she guided his cock to her opening and began sinking down, pausing as his width breached her passage to allow time for adjustment.

She was so tight that, even wet, it was almost painful for Tony as he pressed past her entrance. He was mindful enough to allow her to guide the penetration, but it took more control than he thought he still had not to thrust up into her. When she finally began moving, taking more of him in, it was almost too much for him. He held his breath until he felt himself bottom out, her swollen flesh pressed tight against his skin.

"Ziva," was all he could manage before she leaned down and kissed him, moving herself up and down his length as she did so. The feel of her encasing him, the pull of her muscles as she worked herself against him, momentarily made Tony lose focus on his goal. She felt too good, and he was going to cum too soon, unless he distracted her. He didn't want to go over the edge by himself, and knew she would need probably some help to achieve orgasm from penetration after what she had endured in Somalia.

Forcing her mouth from his and pushing Ziva into a sitting position on his cock, Tony ran his hands up and down her arms, across her back, and held her hips to control her motions a little. Using the knowledge he had already gathered from the night's activities, he adjusted the angle of her body to give her the friction she would need, hitting her sweet spot with every pass. Allowing one hand to guide her left the remaining hand free to explore the mounds dangling just out of reach of his mouth. Unable to suckle her hard nipples, he settled for rolling and pinching them between his fingers, switching from breast to breast.

Tony somehow still managed to hold his release back, unable to yet ensure Ziva's. Taking his hand from her hip, sure that she was enjoying that particular motion too much to stop or switch it up on him, Tony burrowed with his fingers to find her swollen bud. Pinching it, timed to coincide with similar actions to her breasts, Tony got ready for Ziva to break. It didn't take long, and the vice-clamp of her walls around him took him, roaring, with her.

Time stood still in the aftermath of their love-making. Tony gathered Ziva into his arms, turning her onto her side to pull her in tight against him, cradling her upper body with his arm and forcing her head to settle against his chest. Tony had never been one for cuddling. His bedmates were generally chosen for sexual compatibility, nothing deeper; once the sex was over, he rarely felt the need to stay or comfort. Jeanne had been an exception, but that had been Tony DiNardo, not him. After what he and Ziva had just shared, though, Tony felt too emotionally entangled to do more than lay there.

Ziva moved first, excusing herself with a smile to head to the bathroom. Her brief absence allowed Tony to examine the ramifications of the night, thoughts and mental connections pin-balling quickly. As intense as tonight had been, this had been about Ziva, and she had not given him any indications of feeling anything for him beyond deep trust, of this being anything more than an extreme case of friends-with-benefits. While this was a new situation for them, it was an old game for Tony. He sat up on the edge of the bed, surveying the room for his clothing, waiting his turn in the bathroom.

Taking his cues from a still-naked and unashamed Ziva, Tony didn't bother to try and pull on his boxers for the trip to the bathroom. Studying himself in the mirror, running his hands through the tangled spikes of his hair to try and make it look presentable enough for the return trip to his apartment, Tony felt unsettled. While he had thoroughly enjoyed his time in Ziva's bed, and had done so knowing it was limited, the reality of that fact was like a cold shower. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want to go home to an empty bed. He wanted to wake up next to her and take her again slowly as the sun rose, enjoy a leisurely shower together before heading in to the office.

But none of that was going to happen.

Hastily washing up, Tony slipped on a carefree mask, the seasoned Don Juan plotting his exit. It wouldn't do to go out there looking like he was a starry-eyed teenage girl confronting her first crush. _You can pull this off, DiNozzo_, Tony told himself as he pulled the door open, only to find himself lost all over again.

Ziva had remade the bed in his absence, plumping pillows and straightening blankets. She already lay on the left-hand side, hair splayed out against the sheets, facing the empty right side, where she had turned down the linens in clear invitation. Tony's clothes had also been gathered and neatly folded, draped over the back of the lone chair in the room, his shoes neatly lined up beneath it as well.

The obvious intent hit him like a sucker punch in the gut. Ziva expected him to stay; there was no hesitation on her part. His breath shaky, Tony made his way over to his side of the bed, sliding in to face his ninja. She did not reach for him, but smiled sleepily, as she told him goodnight. Smiling in return, Tony pushed a stray hair behind her ear, bidding her good night as well, before turning onto his back and falling asleep within moments.


	14. Chapter 13

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 13/?

**Date-** 6/28/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

**Author's Note:** Please critique me! I am at the end of my stock-piled chapters, and while I have a pretty good map of where I want to go, there are some details giving me issues along the way. This particular chapter turned out so much sappier and happier than I had originally envisioned, but my tense and volatile Tiva moments simply weren't working.

_**Chapter Five—Part V**_

_**Trust Between Partners **_

Tony woke up with an armful of Ziva. At some point in the night, she had migrated to his side of the bed and wrapped herself around him. Her right arm was thrown across his chest; her legs were entangled with his; and her breasts were tightly pressed against his side. His body was entirely aware of hers.

While Tony had been sleeping, Ziva's closeness has only worsened his usual morning condition. Willing his dick to listen and the morning wood to go down, Tony took deep, slow breaths while trying to gather control.

Ziva responded to the sudden tension in his body by snuggling in closer and wrapping herself up tighter again him.

Double shit. Tony was not going to be able escape this apartment without doing something to relieve his tension. Hell, he wasn't going to be able to walk normally to the bathroom if he didn't take care of this first. But he wasn't sure of Ziva. Would she want to…?

Ziva's sudden, gentle stroke of his length soothed his initial mental panic, but created another one. She was definitely up for morning sex; but he still didn't know if this was just sex or something more. Last night, he could handle 'just sex.' She had needed his help, he had provided it. This morning was not about that. The million dollar question was, just what would it be about?

"Good morning, Tony," she breathed into his ear. "How long have you been…up?" she purred at him as she continued stroking him.

Tony laughed shortly, trying to reclaim the ability to speak. "Ah, not long."

"Why did you not wake me?" she asked, raising her head and shifting her body into a position that was half-reclining on Tony, studying him.

The lack of a quick verbal answer from Tony, and watching discomfort play across his face, sent Ziva quickly back to her side of the bed in a graceful roll. "Thank you for last night, Tony," she stated, her voice cold compared to its recent warmth. "I think…" she trailed off for a moment, trying to find the words, no doubt. "What Saleem did to me, what his men did—you have replaced my nightmares with much more pleasant memories. Healing does not seem so impossible now."

Tony was still looking for his voice. He didn't know how to respond. 'You're welcome' seemed more than a little crass and completely insufficient to boot. But he also thought that a declaration of his feelings right now might be a little over the top. That left very little for him to consider as an answer. _I'm glad I could help you, Ziva_, was the best he could come up with, and he didn't like it. "Ziva—I—," he tried.

Ziva sighed at his inability to speak, and did not look at him. "Would you like to shower first, Tony?" she asked, her voice as careful as he had tried to be in his thoughts.

"Sure, thanks," he answered, finding that the emotional undercurrents of the moment had reduced his previous arousal sufficiently to allow him to make his way to the bathroom without further embarrassment.

Ziva spoke as he gathered himself to stand, balancing on the edge of the mattress for a moment. Her voice was cautious. "Tony, I know this is not your first morning after. What is wrong?"

Still not facing her, unsure how to proceed through the emotional minefield, Tony opted for putting the ball in her court, so to speak, and asked, "What do you mean?"

Ziva sighed. "Never mind," was her only reply after a few heavy moments of silence. If Ziva had any feelings for him, she was obviously as unwilling to address the issue as he was. After a few moments and Tony mentally Gibbs-slapping himself, he turned back to face his beautiful ninja.

"Ziva, we need to talk about this—"he sighed.

"This?" Ziva asked, disbelief washing over her face. "What this? My genuine gratefulness to you for an amazing night? Or you being an ass and pushing me away instead of allowing real emotional ties to someone? You have always seemed to excel at it before. Now is not an exception." She stiffly rose and began throwing on running clothes.

"Dammit," Tony muttered. "Ziva—"

She whirled at him, and hissed, "What?"

"Last night was not just about you," Tony cringed at his own words. He had never been good at talking about emotions. Joking and making light of matters had always been his natural talent and protective behavior. Actually making Ziva understand his complicated feelings about what had happened between them, without full disclosure, was near impossible for him. Gibbs might have an easier time of it. "I mean, it was. I did it for you, because you asked me to. But I wouldn't have done it for just anyone."

Ziva sighed, and closed her eyes. "What does that mean, Tony?"

Tony sighed back and shrugged. "Last night, that wasn't just sex to me."

"I do not understand, Tony," Ziva stated, low and tense, not sounding at all like herself. "What was it, to you, beyond 'just sex'?"

Tony internally sighed. "It can never just be sex with you, Ziva. Sex is an act with a stranger, nothing more than mere physical satisfaction. You are too big a part of my life to ever be _just sex_."

Ziva dropped running shoes on the ground next to her dresser and crossed her arms, hugging herself. "Then what am I?" Meeting Tony's eyes, her brown ones demanding truth from him, she asked, "What was last night, then?"

Tony audibly sighed, this time. "I don't know, Ziva."

Grabbing one running show from the ground and shoving her foot into it before lacing it up properly, Ziva shook her head and mumbled in Hebrew. Tony stepped up to her, dropped to his knee, and grabbed her hands to still them. She fought briefly before allowing him to control her movement. When she refused to look at him after several more minutes, he forced her chin up to see her clearly. "I suck at this morning after before I don't want this to be a morning after. I want—" Frustration broke through. "I want you, dammit. I want every morning, every night—always."

Ziva's smile broke immediately, wide and shining. "You want me? Not just for a work partner, or sex, but—a relationship?"

Tony closed the space between them, grasping Ziva's face between his palms and leaning his forehead against her. "I meant it when I said that I couldn't live without you. I just didn't know how to tell you, at least not so that you'd believe me."

"You love me?" she asked, her voice low and throaty and painfully raw.

Tony sighed. It was now or never. "Yes. I love you." And he might have damned himself with those words, he was so totally unprepared to manage a real, adult relationship with anyone, much less Ziva. Because if things went badly, it wasn't just any woman he could walk away from.

Ziva's eyes filled. "You love me!" she said, her voice full of wonder. "But why? I am such damaged goods…" Her happiness sounded hollow at those words, as if she couldn't accept that she deserved the happy part.

"You are not," Tony stated vehemently. "You are not damaged goods."

"I will not argue this with you now," Ziva pulled Tony's lips down to hers, a chaste but searing kiss, one of promise and happiness. "I am just happy to hear that you love me, as I love you."

Tony felt his knees turn to jelly. Ziva loved him. ZIVA loved HIM. Ziva LOVED him. "You love me?" he asked, unfamiliar uncertainty in his voice.

Ziva chuckled, warmth and humor apparent. "Yes, I , Zivalah Edythe David, love you, Anthony DiNozzo, Jr."

Tony wrapped his arms around Ziva, lifted, and spun her in a circle, ending up falling on the bed and pulling her with him. "Ziva—Gibbs may kill us over this."

"Falling in love?" she asked, mockingly.

"I have lynched and buried Rule 12 in just two days. I could only have trashed it more if I'd hooked up with McGee at some point, too!" Tony joked.

"Gibbs will have his own Rule 12 issues after this undercover operation, Tony," Ziva laughed.

Tony stilled. "Dammit. This operation—"

"I know what the op will demand, Tony," Ziva met Tony's green gaze straight on. "For both of us. I can handle it. Can you?"

Tony considered. Could he? Could he watch Ziva and Gibbs and be okay with that? Or Ziva and someone else? He knew that it was all an act; it wasn't that he didn't understand. But emotional, could he hack it? "I don't know," Tony admitted. "I've never had to process something like this before. Any relationship I've had, this didn't exactly come up."

Ziva nodded in understanding. "I can handle this—though it will not be easy, I admit. But we have to handle it, or—"

Tony leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes. "We prove Gibbs's Rule 12 is right. And I don't want to do that."

"Neither do I," Ziva agreed. "But this is not something we can hide. If we were not participating in this operation, I would suggest we keep it to ourselves for a while, but I do not think it is possible to do so under these circumstances."

"I can't lie to Gibbs, not after all he's just found out that I wasn't telling him," Tony said. "And I certainly won't be able to hide my reactions at the club a hundred percent of the time. I'm an undercover federal agent, not a machine!"

Ziva laughed as she was meant to. "Perhaps we should just—tell them?"

"I'm not that brave," Tony shook his head. "I'm still amazed I'm alive right now."

"If this were a Monday morning, you could just come in and start talking about your weekend conquest, as usual," Ziva considered possible plans of attack.

"Or you could just tell him," Tony suggested.

"But you are Senior Field Agent. It is your job to know how to handle Gibbs!" Ziva protested.

Tony laughed outright. "This is not part of my job description. Plus, if Gibbs is pissed, he's more likely to hit me than you—you need to take one for the team, so to speak, and spare me the lion."

"Okay. I will do it," Ziva agreed grudgingly. "But you owe me. I think I should collect right now."

"And just what is the payment?" Tony asked, a devilish glint in his eye. "Will this do?" Tony kissed Ziva, rolling her beneath him as he tried to remove her running clothes.

Ziva looked up at him, her eyes hooded. "This is a good start. But if we are to be on time to the office this morning…"

"I'd better get to work!" Tony exclaimed, claiming her lips—and, eventually, some other body parts. Miraculously, they both made it to the office on time.


	15. Chapter 14

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 14/?

**Date-** 7/9/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Six**_

_**Working Out "The Morning After"**_

Abby and Gibbs had arrived at the office together, although none of the team was aware of it until Tony managed to found his way down to the lab mid-morning. Abby had been processing evidence from other teams, trying to catch up from leaving early yesterday; the team had been trying to locate floor plans for the club, more information on the operator/owner, and trying to fine tune the plan for tonight.

Gibbs's good mood had clued Tony in, but Abby's squeal before launching herself into Tony's arms clinched it. "I take it that you and the bossman 'talked' last night," he said, employing the cheesy air quotes.

Abby smiled. "Oh, yeah," she fanned her herself, then admitted, "And we actually talked-talked, too."

"Is he going to kill me now?" Tony joked, studying Abby's eyes. He could always read her, if she looked right at him; others might be fooled by the hyper act, but he knew the secret to Abby now.

"No, he won't," she smiled wider. Jumping up and down a little, Abby couldn't keep it to herself. "Pinky swear you'll keep it to your self, and I'll tell you why."

Tony considered it for a moment. While happy Gibbs wasn't going to kill him—still—it would be nice to know why, and not just take Abby's word for it. Grasping pinkies, Tony agreed. "So why?"

Looking around, Abby leaned into Tony and whispered into his ear. "He loves me—really loves me—but he also loves to play my type of games, Tony."

Pulling back to study her excited face again, Tony made sure he heard her right. "He's okay with you playing?" he confirmed in a low voice, mindful of where they were.

Nodding feverishly up and down, Abby practically vibrated. "So everything will be fine tonight, no problems."

"You can't partner up with him—" Tony began, only to be cut off by the man himself entering the lab.

"You are her partner tonight, Tony," Gibbs stated bluntly. "The case comes first. And no, I won't kill you."

A breath of relief slipped out before Tony could stop it. "Thank God you two settled things. Congratulations." He offered Gibbs a handshake, which was firmly and warmly accepted. "So did McGeek find something while I was down here?"

"No," Gibbs sighed. "I was going to give it a couple more hours before calling it and heading home for some rest before tonight."

"Up late, Boss?" Tony cockily asked, smile wide and joking. He did it to get a laugh, and totally accepted the head-slap he knew was coming, albeit slightly less stinging than usual.

Gibbs shook his head, a smile ghosting its way across his face. "You two, head to lunch. I know you wanna talk, and I most certainly don't want you to do it here." He kissed Abby, gentle and chaste, but on the lips, shocking Tony a little. "Go get ready, Abs. I need to talk to Tony."

She smiled, grabbed her purse from her office, and headed to the ladies' room. "Meet you in the lobby."

As soon as she was gone, Tony's expressed hardened a little and he turned to face Gibbs. Before he could say a word, though, Gibbs spoke.

"I don't have the best track record, but I will never deliberately hurt her, Tony." Gibbs fixed his icy stare on Tony. "You have my word. And if I don't keep my word, I expect you to kick my ass for her."

Tony quickly forced the surprise he was sure flashed across his face away. "I should have known I didn't need to threaten you."

"I'm glad you still planned to, Tony." Gibbs's voice held no humor. "You will always have my girl's six, I know. And that makes me feel better."

Tony felt the seriousness of the moment. "Always, Gibbs. I don't love her like you do, but she means a damn lot to me."

With a nod and a quick squeeze of Tony's shoulder, Gibbs took his leave.

NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS

Tony stopped at the bullpen long enough to collect his badge and gun, and ask his colleagues if they wanted anything brought back for them. McGee waved a hand absent-mindedly at a bag of Nutter Butters on his desk, not even taking the time to respond verbally. It was totally out of character for him, but Tony knew he was still desperately working to prevent tonight's op. Ziva was not at her desk, and Tony decided that was a good thing. He didn't want to have her invite herself for lunch, nor did he want to hurt her feelings by not inviting her if she seemed interested.

He needed to talk to Abby about what had happened last night with Ziva, which he couldn't do if Ziva was there. That thought settled his feelings of guilt, and he set off for the elevator at a quick pace.

Ziva waited until Tony left the bullpen before cornering Gibbs on the mezzanine. "Gibbs. I need to talk to you."

One eyebrow raised, Gibbs asked a question he dreaded a negative answer to. "Changing your mind about tonight, David?"

"No," she shook her head. "I have no problems with this mission, or what it requires. But I have some…other issues."

Gibbs sighed. "Let's go for coffee."

NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS

Ziva followed Gibbs out of the building, glad that Tony and Abby had left a few minutes ahead of them. This conversation with Gibbs was going to be stressful enough, without having to act 'normal' around Tony right now. The two agents did not talk on the way to the coffeehouse, but easily fell into step with each other.

The coffeehouse itself was busy as usual, and by unspoken agreement both Ziva and Gibbs took their drinks and headed to a bench in the park across the street. Once seated, Gibbs took a sip and then shocked Ziva. "How did you get stuck with telling me you and DiNozzo finally broke Rule 12?"

Ziva's eyes went wide, and she opened and shut her mouth several time before she could speak. "How do you DO that? How do you know everything?"

Chuckling, Gibbs leaned back on the bench. "According to Abby, magic."

Ziva shook her head in disbelief, but at least a portion of her stress—the worry over how to broach the subject—was relieved. "It certainly seems that way." She considered her next words. "It should seem odd, having this conversation with a man I see like a father."

Gibbs inclined his head in acknowledgement of her statement, never one for openly expressed emotion. "Considering tonight's very unfatherly undercover assignment, this conversation should be a piece of cake, Ziva."

"You read the reports on my…captivity." Ziva phrased it as a statement, but it was a question.

"Yeah," Gibbs sipped his coffee, looking off into the distance. "I did."

Ziva looked off into the distance, too. "I was trained for the eventuality. Knowing what to expect helped me to survive."

"Mossad is thorough in its training," Gibbs stated. "They want you to…survive."

"I do not want to just survive, anymore," Ziva sighed. "I want to live, to be happy. I never realized what I missed, in Mossad, until I came here. You are most like me, Gibbs, out of the team. You have gone on the missions, been captured, survived—and seemed content. You found a balance between warrior and man. I have not yet, and it is a struggle, but you give me hope that I may manage it as well."

The honesty of her words rang true to Gibbs. "It took me a long time to find it, Ziva. I hope it doesn't take you nearly as long. Or with as much heartbreak along the way."

"I do not mean any disrespect, Gibbs—" Ziva took a deep breath, and managed to ask the question she was afraid of the answer. "Was the time you had with them, the happiness, worth the pain of their loss?"

Gibbs knew exactly to whom she was referring. "As much as losing my girls hurt, they gave me so much while they were here that it was worth it to have them for that brief bit."

"Even if you are merely now…content with life, and not happy?" Ziva asked.

Gibbs thought a moment, then nodded. "Yes. Why this question, now?"

"I asked Tony to sleep with me, because I trust him and he is my partner. I needed help to heal myself fully from Somalia." Ziva paused, unsure how to continue without angering Gibbs. "I needed to be sure that I had fully recovered from Somalia before tonight."

Nodding in understanding, Gibbs said, "You've never talked about Somalia, so I left it alone, but I figured you would have some issues to work out. Though I thought they might have been handled sooner than this."

Lips in a tight line, Ziva shook her head. "I knew what I had to do, to resolve issues…but I did not have the courage to actually go through with it, until last night. This case made it necessary to find the balls to do it, I think is the phrase?"

Gibbs smiled and gave a little laugh, a look of true amusement he rarely wore. "Yeah, Ziva, that's the phrase." But that was all that he said, as they sat side-by-side and watched the people walk past.

"Why bother telling me this?" Gibbs asked, suddenly studying her face closely. "I didn't have to know about this. What are you really trying to tell me?"

"I love Tony," Ziva sincerely stated, looking Gibbs directly in the eye. "I do not want to break your rules, Gibbs, but I have to."

"You asking permission to break my rules?" Gibbs asked, disbelief on his face.

"Yes," Ziva breathed out noisily, still in wonder that she and Tony were on the same emotional page after all these years but determined to stay on it with him.

"Would you have told me if it was just a one-time thing?" Gibbs asked, genuine interest in his voice. "This operation, you two could have indulged and been in the clear."

Ziva shrugged. "I do not know if we would have told you. If it was just the once, if it was just to help me handle the mission….that falls within being a good partner, I think, and that does not violate your rule, so there would be no reason to tell you. This—this is much more than that, though."

"Does he love you, too?" Gibbs asked, less concerned at this development now than he might have been two or three years ago. If Tony had told her he loved her, at this point in time, Gibbs would believe he was sincere and not just saying it in the heat of the moment.

"He told me so, yes," Ziva sighed. "Neither of us wish to leave the team, or have you disappointed in us, but we also want to have a relationship."

Gibbs wrapped an arm around Ziva, and pulled her in close. "Do you think he will make you happy, and not merely content?"

Biting her lip, Ziva answered with emotion heavy in her voice. "Yes, I think he can do that now. Not before, but now, yes."

Gibbs sighed, and she felt it in his chest movement against her. "I can't tell you no. If it will make you happy, and him happy, I can't tell you not to go for it. Just keep it out of the office, and I won't have any issues with you two." There was a pause, and he added, "Plus, I'm violating 12, too, now. Can't hold you to a higher standard than I do myself."

Ziva asked, "So you and Abby?"

"God help me for a foolish old man, but yes." Gibbs took his arm back and ran a hand through his hair. "I think, with Abby, I might be happy again."

Ziva took Gibbs's hand and squeezed it. "Then you must go for it, as well. I would like to see you happy."

"Thank you, Ziva," Gibbs answered, but was cut off from further comment by Ziva's threat.

"But hurt her, Gibbs, and I will help her hide your body." The gleam in Ziva's eye was more predatory than usual, and Gibbs suddenly remembered just what she could be capable of when necessary. Rising from the bench to head back to the office, he hoped DiNozzo realized that as well.


	16. Chapter 15

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 14/?

**Date-** 7/24/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

Chapter Six Part II

_**Working Out "The Morning After"**_

Tony slid into the booth opposite Abby, adjusting his side arm for comfort. Abby practically bounced into her seat, tossing her purse and jacket down with little regard for where they landed. This little Italian place, a couple blocks from the Navy Yard, was cheap and busy, but the food was awesome and service almost as good. Considering how rarely the MCRT managed to get out for lunch—and even rarer, finished a meal uninterrupted while on duty— it was the perfect place to grab a bite.

Tony turned his head in question at Abby as the waitress tried to hand them menus; at Abby's quick shrug, he waived the menus away and placed their usual order for a tomato pie with fresh mozzarella and spinach. It was Abby's favorite. The hostess, familiar with them, brought their drinks over just as the waitress stepped away. With a thanks and some gentle flirting, the hostess left, finally giving Tony and Abby needed privacy.

Both started speaking at the same time. "So, you and Gibbs—" and "So, me and Gibbs—"

"I talked to him." Abby confirmed. "Okay, I pushed him as only I can. I was scared to crap, Tony. I point blank asked him if knowing about me and you, and me and the clubs, made him look at me differently. I thought it did. He took a while to answer me."

"But?" Tony prodded.

"He told me he couldn't fault me for things he enjoys himself." The bright happiness in Abby's eyes was like a solar flare. "Not to directly quote the conversation, because I don't' have photographic memory and can't, but I was so relieved he wasn't repulsed that I let him know how much his opinion matters….and one thing led to another…and yeah, he loves me. He has played—and he is totally okay with it, and me. He is more bothered by our age difference than my kinks."

Knowing how long Abby had been hopelessly (at least she thought it was) in love with Gibbs, and seeing how happy she was now, Tony was ecstatic for his friend. "Just remember, Abs, the second B—"

"I know, Tony. I know what I'm getting into." Abby sipped her drink. "Its not going to be easy, I'm sure, but me and Gibbs—I think its for the long haul. I've never felt like this about anyone, you know that."

"And his three failed marriages?" Tony had to ask. He didn't want to dim the happiness of the moment, but he also didn't look forward to picking up the pieces of Abby later on if Gibbs shattered her heart. "I'm sure they all thought the same thing…"

"I know about Kelly and Shannon." Abby firmly stated. "I understand his job, and I'm just as much of a workaholic. That's makes this a better fit than any of his red heads."

"As long as your sure, Abs. I want you happy." Tony gripped her hand across the table quickly, reassuring her of the truth of his words. "And I'm not just saying that because Gibbs can kick my ass if I tell you otherwise."

Breaking apart into laughter for a few minutes, Abby slipped into Gibbs-like mode as it ended. "So, what is it you need to tell me, Tony?"

Tony tried to pull off his frat-boy smiling charm, despite the fact that Abby had learned to see through it years ago. "What would I have to talk about it? You and Gibbs, that's the big news, isn't it?"

Abby sipped her Caf-Pow, studying him. "That's big news, yeah. But not the only news. You and Ziva finally knock boots?"

"Shit, Abs, how do you do that?" Tony smiled.

Shrugging, she shook her head. "Don't know. Prolonged Gibbs exposure?" she suggested.

"Maybe," Tony rolled his eyes. "But yeah, you're right. Last night, Ziva and I—we talked."

"Talked?" Abby raised her eyebrow at him.

"Yes, we talked." Tony sighed, leaning back against the booth. "A long over due talk. She had some issues to work out about the club—and asked me to help her work them out." He paused, unsure what to tell Abby about he and Ziva's discussion that would make Abby understand his emotional state but protect Ziva's privacy.

Twirling the ice in her glass, Abby concentrated on Tony's eyes. "You don't have to tell me details. I don't expect that, Tony. Plus, Ziva and I have talked some about Somalia. Just tell me the important stuff."

Releasing a relieved sigh—and he should have known that Abby would understand his dilemma—he smiled. "We talked about how things used to be, and how both she and I are different now. Somalia changed us both. She needed to work out some things from there before tonight, and asked me to help."

Puzzlement briefly flickered across Abby's mobile face. "So was it just one night, or are you two finally together?"

Tony drank deeply from his own glass, suddenly glad he could see their waitress headed toward their table with a steaming tray. He waited until the waitress left and both he and Abby had taken a few mouthfuls of food before continuing. "I didn't exactly clarify it before hand."

"Oh, Tony," Abby gasped. "Please don't tell me you treated her like one of your one-night stands!"

Shoveling another bite in, trying to reign in a little anger that Abby didn't know him better until he realized that, hey, Abby was right to wonder, Tony waited to swallow before speaking again. "Not many of those one night stands have complaints, Abs."

"Tony!" she scolded.

"Okay, okay," Tony gave in. "I thought she was going to kick me out, after. I mean, that's how it usually goes with me. I never stay the night, you know that."

"You always do with me," Abby smiled.

"You are special, Abs." Tony continued to eat, talking between bites. "I don't do sex with friends, except with you. And Paula." Pain briefly crossed his face and heart at the name of their fallen comrade. "I'm used to wham, bam, don't let the door hit you in the ass."

"So you didn't stay the night," Abby questioned.

"I wasn't going to." Tony sighed. "I figured she wouldn't want me to. God, I wanted to—but then it would be more than just a night of sex, to me. After everything we had talked about earlier, what we had done, I didn't think it was the time to tell her that, though."

Abby stopped chewing. "But?" she prompted him.

"When I came back from the bathroom, she—" Tony shook his head. "She didn't say anything. But she had folded my clothes up on a chair, remade the bed, turned down a side for me…"

"She invited you to stay, without saying a word." Abby smiled. "And did you?"

"Yeah," Tony smiled.

"And this morning?" Abby reached for another slice.

"Rough waters, until we talked it out." Tony balled up his straw wrapper, then flattened it. "I love her, Abs, you know that."

"And you finally told her?" Abby practically squealed in her seat. "And what did she say?"

"She loves me, too." Tony sighed. "And we love each other enough to say screw it to Rule 12."

Abby was momentarily concerned. "Tony, Gibbs might not be happy with this. I won't tell him, but if he asks me, I can't lie to him for shit—"

"Ziva drew the short straw and gets to tell him," Tony cut her off. "We both want this, and we don't want to lie to Gibbs."

Abby popped out of her side of the booth to plant a smeary red kiss on Tony's cheek and wrap her arms around him quickly. "Congratulations. And since Gibbs is smashing 12, I think he'll have to be okay with it."

"I'm hoping so," Tony inhaled deeply.

"Well," Abby said as she slid back into her seat. "Tonight's going to be REALLY interesting…."


	17. Chapter 16

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 16/?

**Date-** 7/25/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**In the Garden of Eden**_

The team had spent the rest of the afternoon on pins and needles, restless and apprehensive. A brief meeting in the early afternoon, when it became apparent that McGee was't going to turn anything up to negate the need for this undercover operation, established the method and time and meeting for tonight.

Gibbs wanted two cars, slightly less cop-like vehicles than the government issued sedans would be good, so they took his Charger and Tony's Corvette. Tony and Abby were set to arrive slightly earlier and wait to meet Gibbs and Ziva at the front door, after completing the membership sponsorship paperwork.

Tony wore black dress pants and a green silk shirt that made his eyes look even greener. Abby was dressed as per her usual for sex clubbing—red embroidered corset, lacy garter belt sans panties, and a short, short black skirt. Her normal collar was replaced with a sexy little skull chain, and the platform boots discarded in favor of four inch stacked red stilettos. In a little purse, she carried condoms, dental dams, hand sanitizer, mouthwash, and a small tube of lube. She had stocked one to match it for Ziva as well, and left it with the former Mossad officer earlier in the day.

"Are you sure you are okay with this, Abs?" Tony asked on the way to the club, studying her profile as traffic and lights allowed.

Abby nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay with this. I just have to be me and act like I normally do. You guys have to do the hard work."

Tony nodded. "I know, but Gibbs will be there."

"I told you, Tony, he's aces with it." Abby played with the strap of her purse, studying Tony as well while he drove. "What about you and Ziva? I know you've played—but never when you were serious about someone. It's a different dynamic."

Sighing, Tony shrugged. "Theoretically, I'm okay with it. I know this is a mission. I know how the game is played. In practice? I'm not sure how I'll feel."

"Wow," Abby smiled. "You really do love her. Where is that slick serial womanizer with a devil may care attitude?"

"I left him in Somalia," was Tony's honest reply.

"Good," Abby answered. "Because Ziva needs the new and improved Tony. And I think you need her."

Tony's silence passed for agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~~~~~~~~~

The arrival of Gibbs and Ziva to the club caused a slight stir at the door among members waiting to be checked in and searched. Ziva wore a stunning short halter dress, the gold of it complementing her olive skin tone, with matching high-heeled sandals. With her hair up in loose curls, and the plunging neck and back lines of the dress, there was more skin showing than cloth. Simple drop earrings brought attention to her heavily made up face, the charcoal colored eyeliner making her dark eyes look enormous. Abby was impressed; she'd rarely seen Ziva dressed up like this. If she had bumped into Ziva out at a club, Abby would have been smitten. "Damn, Z!" she managed to get out.

Ziva was closely followed by Gibbs, his hand in the small of Ziva's back to guide her. Keeping in character, Abby hugged each of the agents in greeting, planting a friendly kiss on both as well as giving a subtle butt squeeze to Ziva. To her credit, Ziva did not flinch and simply smiled back.

Tony greeted Ziva with a hug and kiss, a handshake for Gibbs. After showing driver's licenses and allowing quick pat-downs by the big guys in "Security" t-shirts, Abby led them on a quick tour. As they entered, Abby pointed out the bathrooms, group shower, and hot tubs to the right; Tony chimed in that further back past the bathrooms were the private rooms, of which they had reserved room number five for the evening.

On the left were semi-private booths, essentially cubicles with open doors. Opposite those on the walkway was an area with a half wall built around it, covered with mats and a sex swing in the middle. Most people were gathered on the dance floor, where there was a large bar with porn movies projected onto the light colored back wall. A food buffet was against another wall, surrounded by some tables and chairs, and a dark archway was between it and a second bar.

Abby gestured to the archway. "That's the back bar, where we usually hang out. Close to food, the dance floor. Its quieter and less of a meat market."

During the tour, Abby and Tony had both been greeted by several people by name; hugs and quick kisses were given in return, and introductions made to the "new" couple before venturing further into the club. Ziva played charming, flirting with the women as well as the men, and Gibbs did the manly nods to the men while charming the women. Abby was happy that Ziva seemed okay, and managed to grab them a couple of stools next to each other when they reached the back bar.

Abby waved the bartender over, and Gibbs ordered three beers for the working agents. Abby ordered a Red Bull and Vodka, a combination that wasn't surprising. Once the drinks had been delivered, there was some quiet discussion about options in hushed tones. The best plan was to socialize. Gibbs and Tony fell right into the undercover persona; Tony usually played himself undercover anyway. Ziva was less sure of how to play it, and wanted to observe a little longer. There was some definite interest in Gibbs from a red head at the end of the bar; Tony was quickly snagged by a blonde woman he didn't recognize as having been here before.

That left Abby and Ziva alone for the time being. Picking up on Ziva's slight unease, Abby leaned close to her ear and asked, "What's wrong?"

Ziva smiled sultrily back at Abby and leaned in to whisper to Abby as well. "How does this work? Should I approach the man, or let the man approach me?"

"Its sorta woman's choice, by necessity," Abby answered, sipping her drink. "No means no, so its up to the women, usually, to approach. Especially the bi-women. No one assumes. If men approach you, they will probably ask you outright if you mind women. If you don't mind, they'll point out their significant others. The woman who is interested sent him to check with you."

"The women don't approach other women themselves?' Ziva asked, puzzled.

"Only if they know you are bi already. It can be a little dicey. Not everyone is as open as I am," Abby added. "Its amazing that even within a group of people who pretty much ignore sexual norms that an anti-homosexuality bias is still there."

"So no gay men come here, I take it?" Ziva asked, turning around on her stool to look around as she sipped her beer.

"No," Abby shook her head. "And very, very few bi. There's no male bi action here, either; any man I know swings both ways, he doesn't swing it both ways here."

"Interesting," Ziva commented. "I seem to be getting a lot of looks, but no one is approaching."

Abby bit her lip. "I might be cock-blocking. People who know me here are probably assuming you are my girlfriend."

One elegantly arched eyebrow was Ziva's only comment on the statement. Thinking it over, Abby wrapped her arm around Ziva's waist and tugged her toward the dance floor. "If we start dancing, more people will come over and talk to us."

Dancing with Abby was like being seduced in public. Abby was closer than close, bare skin rubbing against Ziva and hands gliding everywhere. On an undercover operation or not, with a co-worker or not, Abby found herself re-evaluting the tough Mossad officer in front of her. Ziva had agreed easily to the mission, but wasn't entirely sure of herself here. It was a fantasy for Abby—Ziva was the most dominant woman Abby knew, yet she needed Abby to direct her here. This tripped Abby's dominant side entirely too much for comfort, so Abby decided it was time to turn Ziva loose on the crowd. The agents needed to mingle, not hook up with one another.

Having positioned themselves on the edge of the dance floor to more easily keep within sight of the male agents still talking to women at the bar (although different ones than earlier), Ziva and Abby attracted a great deal of attention, both from people simply walking past as well as from people seated at the tables. Over the course of three songs, at least six women had approached and joined them. Each time, Abby had loosened her hold on Ziva, turning more attention to her new partner, until Ziva herself found one that was talkative and not just grabby.

Asking if the woman wanted to sit down and get a drink, Ziva fanned herself. Little dress or not, it was damn hot. The woman's male date, whom had been looking on, took this as an opportunity to join them, water cups in hand, at a table. Abby went off on her own, then, allowing Ziva to find out the information they needed to know from the couple.

**~~~~~~~~~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~~~~~~~~**

Gibbs had chatted with the red head, as well as her blonde friend, for a bit, allowing some friendly hand wandering and hinting at more. Once he had found out what he could, he excused himself to check on his girlfriend; when the blonde asked who it was, and he pointed out Ziva, there was an increased interest immediately. Smiling before he made his way over to Ziva's table, noting that she had a couple there with her, he assured the blonde he would be back with Ziva to talk to her again later.

The patter, the just-this-side of porn dialogue, came back to him so easily, despite the years since he'd done this. Of course, those years hadn't been too sober, he admitted to himself, and the tension between him and ex-wife #2 at these places had made a pleasurable experience unpleasant. But here with Abby—

Even for a case, even having to steal looks at his girl while multitasking and gathering information, he was enjoying himself. Abby was in her element, playful and flirty and fun to watch. More than one person, male and female, had looked upon her with intense interest. Gibbs smiled happily inside, knowing that she was his—no matter what happened in the club, it was to him and his bed that Abby would return at the end of the night.

As if she felt his eyes on her, Abby turned at that moment and beamed at him, a tall strawberry blonde's arms wrapped around Abby from behind. Gibbs saw the other woman lean into to whisper into Abby's ear. At Abby's nod, the strawberry blonde took Abby's hand and led her to one of the cubicles with the open door. Abby's look back to Gibbs and slight head nod in the direction they were headed was all the invitation he needed.

After all, line of site contact was required. If she was in a cubicle, one of the team was going to have to watch her. Might as well be him.

Plus, strawberry blonde was just a step away from red, wasn't it?


	18. Chapter 17

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part- **17/?

**Date-** 8/13/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**In the Garden of Eden Part II**_

By the time Gibbs managed to make his way, through the dance floor and past the buffet, over to the open cubicle the strawberry blonde and Abby had disappeared into, both women were already naked, limbs entwined, and mouths connected. Had to be a record, even for Abby, Gibbs thought. The strawberry blonde had delicate freckles sprinkled across her shoulder blades, and a tramp stamp of small white flowers and butterflies. That was all that Gibbs could get a clear look at for the first few minutes he was watching, before Abby emerged and pulled away to catch her breath.

"Hmmm…I love that strawberry lip gloss," Abby licked her lips slowly, catching Gibbs's eye as she did so. "So fitting for you," she sighed before sliding down the other woman's body to settle between her legs.

Abby's position, her kiss-swollen lips, and the husky tone to her voice went straight to Gibbs's groin. He seriously considered joining the two of them, only to be interrupted by Tony's greeting.

"Enjoying yourself, Jethro?" he asked, nodding toward the cubicle.

Gibbs met Tony's eyes straight on. "Very much so," he answered, knowing that Tony was testing him. "You know me and red heads," he added, turning his attention back to Abby.

Tony smiled, a real smile, and leaned his back against the wall. "Ziva seems to have made some friends you might want to meet. She's been talking to a couple for a few minutes over at a table; looks like they are heading this way."

Gibbs refocused his attention to the couple. It consisted of a dark haired, shorter man—probably no more than five foot five—and a leggy older brunette who had her arm wrapped around Ziva's waist as all three made their way over. He greeted Ziva with a kiss and a smile as Tony turned his attention to watching Abby. "Hello, pretty lady," Gibbs directed to Ziva's partner.

Ziva squeezed the woman's hand, and touched the man's upper arm as she introduced them both. "Jethro, this is Lois and Steve."

Gibbs nodded in greeting, still smiling. "Caught my girl on the dance floor? She loves to dance."

"I take it that you don't?" Lois asked, loosening her hold on Ziva to wrap her other arm around Gibbs.

Gibbs smiled, the half-smile that made women's hearts melt. "I prefer private dances," he confided to Lois, in a low voice. Turning to Steve, he raised an eyebrow. "What about you, Steve? You a dancer like Ziva here?"

Steve chuckled. "I prefer to watch the dancers, not join in."

Gibbs locked an arm around Lois, leaning to whisper in her ear. "Want to give me a private dance?"

Lois smiled, kissing Gibbs on the cheek. "I always like to perform for others, but Steve is my dance partner."

Nodding, Gibbs smiled back. "I can deal with that arrangement." Releasing Lois, Gibbs pulled Ziva in tight to his body, translating the conversation quickly and quietly for her. While Ziva had hidden her confusion from the casual observer, Gibbs knew her too well. "Lois wants you, not me. She doesn't play with men. Steve and I just watch you two; afterwards, go back to your partners for sex in the same room. Can you handle that?"

Ziva licked her lips and kissed Gibbs, pulling back to nod affirmatively.

Tapping Tony on the shoulder and nodding towards the private rooms, Gibbs spared a quick look at Abby and her friend. Abby's dark head was buried between pale thighs, and gutteral moans were beginning to drift out of the confined space. Tony nodded in understanding before turning back to the cubicle.

Gibbs took Ziva's hand, gesturing for Lois and Steve to lead them, leaving Tony to enjoy the show Gibbs much preferred.

**~~~~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~~~~**

Tony waited until Terry, the strawberry blonde, had shuddered through her third hard orgasm before intruding. Terry had played with both Abby and Tony before, several times. She was fun, sexy with a girl-next-door quality and a sense of humor much in line with Tony's own. "What are you up to, beautiful? Third for the night?"

Terry laughed, beautifully throaty. "Partner, or orgasm?"

Tony leaned in to kiss her hello, as Abby crawled back up lay next to her. "Which one is it, then?" he prompted.

"Wanna be the fourth partner, babe?" Terry asked Tony as she turned to Abby, kissing her deeply before leaning forehead against forehead and whispering, "Thank you, Abby. You never disappoint."

Abby smiled back, leaning over to kiss Tony hello, tasting of Terry. "Wanna join us, Tony?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

Tony made a show of regret for Terry's benefit; he and Abby had already discussed that his job was to meet new people, not play with old friends, tonight. "I'm supposed to meet up with a lovely new lady in about ten minutes. Sorry, Ter."

Terry pouted for all of a minute. "Maybe next time," she said before resuming a lip-lock with Abby.

Tony shook his head. Abby was ever popular here, that was for sure. He left the two women to their fun and resumed his position outside the cubicle, keeping an eye on Abby while also chatting up new people. It was a general rule that sex in the cubicles was open; if you were interested, join in. If you weren't interested in open play, you didn't do it in the cubicles.

That's what caught Tony's attention about the petite curly blonde woman studying Terry and Abby through the open window in the cubby. She had been there about ten minutes, with a spreading pink flush and elevated respiration rate. "Enjoying the show?" Tony asked, dropping his voice seductively.

The woman met his eyes, but looked quickly away. She simply nodded, not voicing an answer to the question.

Tony mentally quirked an eyebrow up in interest. Yes, the woman seemed totally into what she was seeing, but she also seemed slightly embarrassed about it and shy. Must be a newbie, he thought. Deciding to investigate a little—and possibly mark a future partner down—Tony tried to drum up a conversation with her. "I'm Tony. This your first time here?"

She bit her lip before answering, having a hard time pulling her attention away from the action. She met his eyes skittishly, nodding yes, but he lost her attention once again to the rising soundtrack in the cubicle. "Fuck, Abby, yes!" was louder than the driving bass beat on the dance floor.

The blonde's blush deepened, and Tony could tell that she was not interested in him in the least. The women held her spell bound, mesmerized enough that she didn't notice when he crept behind her. She practically leapt into the air when he spoke directly into her ear. "Rules are, cubicles are open. You seem to like what you see, and I know for a fact that Terry and Abby are open to women and someone just joining in."

The woman simply ducked her head again, shaking it no. "I- I couldn't do that," she practically whispered.

Tony interest was beyond piqued. Who came to a sex club and didn't want to take up an open invitation? This woman was obviously into Abby, or Terry, and too unsure of herself to approach. Tony pressed the issue, feeling the need to pursue it his gut despite the fact that under normal circumstances he would have backed off immediately. "Which one is it that you like the most?" he asked her, not moving from behind her but also not touching her.

The woman studied his eyes for a minute, almost searching although Tony couldn't figure out what for. "The dark haired girl," she admitted, reluctance—and desire—in her voice.

Tony smiled widely. "That's Abby," he said. "She's here with me. If you told me your name, I could introduce you to her?" The end of his statement was practically drowned out by Abby's throaty moans as Terry returned Abby's earlier oral favors.

The woman looked back into the cubicle, her face totally red now. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "It's Chloe. And no," she said, softly. "She's having plenty of fun already."

Tony brushed a wisp of hair behind the woman's cheek. "She's a party girl. She likes to have fun—A LOT. Are you sure you don't want me to introduce you, Chloe? Or maybe—I could occupy you until she's free?" He tested the waters, already fairly sure that the answer would be no. Most women, if they were here for men, would already have insinuated themselves all over him.

"No," she answered more firmly than before. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in…"

"Men?" Tony provided.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"No offense taken, Chloe," Tony smiled widely. Its not like he hadn't been turned down before, and more than once for that particular reason. "Every body has their own likes. And even if you aren't interested in me, I can still introduce you. Abby and I are here together, but aren't TOGETHER," Tony clarified.

The pale blonde woman pursed her lips at that, casting a longing glance into the cubicle. Tony's eyes followed hers, seeing Abby and Terry recline side by side and both trying to catch their breath. "Thank you, but—maybe later." The soft-spoken, shy woman backed away, disappearing into the dance floor.

Tony shrugged to himself. To each their own, but even with that standard—that one was an odd bird. Mentally noting her name, appearance, and recent membership here, Tony added her to the list of people to look into that they were here to compile tonight.


	19. Chapter 18

**Title- **_**The Club Killer**_

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part- **18/?

**Date-** 10/1/11

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Author's Note: Apologies for the slow updates, but it can't be helped. Writer's block and Real Life. I am determined to keep working on this, no matter how difficult it is to complete. My ideas started off strong, then characters got all bullish and wouldn't do what I want them to…so think of it like a slow, ongoing negotiation between my muse and the petulant characters.**_

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**In the Garden of Eden Part III**_

Lois and Steve had a private room, number eight. Steve opened and held the door, while Lois—pulling Ziva behind her, and allowing Gibbs to trail in behind Ziva—breezed through. Taking a towel from the stack of clean linens in the corner, Lois draped it over the open window of the private room—private simply meant the door could lock, not that no one could see you. "I hope you don't mind. I like to share, but only with a select few," Lois smiled.

Gibbs couldn't see anything hinky to this yet. Everyone had their own level of comfort and particular kinks. Some—like Abby—could fuck naked like rabbits on every surface and not care who saw them doing it; others didn't mind fucking complete strangers without even knowing their names as long as no one else was watching.

Personally, Gibbs had a higher tolerance for kink than most. It was one of the reasons he found Abby so appealing.

It was also why Lois and her towel didn't perturb him. Ziva was here with him, so blocking outside eyes didn't matter. They were each others' back-up; plenty of people had seen them come into the room, so even if they missed the half-hour check in with DiNozzo, he would be able to locate them. Gibbs noted, however, that Ziva seemed a little freaked, so he pulled her to him while Lois had begun to strip and Steve had sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.

"You okay, doll?" Gibbs asked in a normal volume, masking his concern for his agent in normal concern for a partner in this new situation. Ziva had talked to this couple, so they would have been given the cover story—Gibbs wasn't new to the scene, although recently returned, but Ziva was. Since this was new to her, nervousness on Agent Ziva's part wouldn't seem out of place for Swinger Ziva.

Ziva flicked her eyes to the towel on the window before looking back into Gibbs. At his slight nod, she relaxed a fraction. So it was being cut-off from the team, not the small room; that was better, in Gibbs's mind. He didn't want Ziva flashing back to her captivity in Somalia. While she had told him that she was fine for this mission, he still had worried for her.

"I think so," she answered, turning her back to Gibbs and lifting her hair up. "Just a little nervous."

Gibbs pulled her closer to him, covering his whispered directions by trailing small kisses up and down Ziva's neck. "Follow her lead. I have your six. If at any time its too much, just say so. The role you are playing allows you to, without threatening the mission."

Smiling coquettishly back at Gibbs, Ziva smiled and nodded. "I think I'm okay."

Lois had already removed the sheer, barely-there dress she was wearing by the time Ziva turned to face her. The woman was not unattractive, Ziva admitted to herself. Long, dark hair, full lips, and a generous shape—not fat, but curves in the right places. This would not be Ziva's first time with a woman, nor with a woman while on a mission. Ziva was not here for fun, but sometimes the opportunity to mix work and play did present itself.

This might be such a time. Licking her lips enticingly, speaking over her shoulder, "Untie me?" Ziva asked Gibbs.

Pulling the thin gold ribbon loose, Gibbs tried to mentally separate himself from what they were about to do. While he was okay with Abby playing, and he knew that anything that happened here was strictly because of the op, Ziva was very much like a daughter to him in many ways. Equally, though, she was like a war buddy, because she understood much more about how his mind worked, the things he had done in the past, than the rest of the team.

Concentrating on Ziva as a Mossad agent, as a fellow operative, as a beautiful woman to admire, he watched as the dress slithered down her petite form, briefly slowing as it caught against her shapely hips, and then pooled around her high-heeled sandals. He felt his body respond in a decidely non-fatherly way, and he was glad.

He wouldn't have to worry too much about his acting ability, then. He could fake interest, but it was much easier to not have to feign that type of interest.

Ziva stood unmoving in front of him, watching Lois but not coming nearer. Whether real or not, the perceived nervousness and shyness earned a low and throaty chuckle from the other woman. "Why are you all the way over there, Ziva? C'mere. You look absolutely delicious…"

Ziva took a step towards Lois, biting her lip shyly and covering her breasts with her arms.

"Don't cover that beautiful body up, Ziva," Lois shook her head as she made her way to across the small room to Ziva. Brushing a stray hair behind Ziva's ear, Lois leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss again Ziva's lips. Lois pulled back to check Ziva's reaction. Satisfied, she put one hand on Ziva's hip and the other on Ziva's neck, pulling the agent in for a more thorough kiss.

Gibbs could pinpoint the moment Lois eased her tongue into Ziva's mouth; Ziva's reaction was to kiss back more assuredly, and link her hands behind Lois's head, pulling the older woman down to Ziva. There were several minutes of increasingly needy kisses, the sounds of heavy breathing and wetly sliding mouths the only sounds in the room.

Lois pulled away first, leaning her forehead against Ziva's, and smiled. "Wow. And that was just a kiss." Gibbs mentally seconded the motion, keeping half his attention on Lois and the other half on Steve. Steve seemed totally occupied with the action in front of them, his only movement to rub his hand against crotch slowly, his eyes glazed.

Sitting down on the small futon in the middle of the room, Lois tugged Ziva down next to her. Pushing her onto her back, Lois sat back on her heels and studied Ziva's toned body. "God, you are so hot."

"So are you, baby," Steve told Lois, who turned her attention briefly back to him before laying next to Ziva.

Moving her kisses to Ziva's neck, Lois allowed her hands to roam, as Ziva pulled Lois down against her. She managed to place her thigh between Lois's legs and against the other woman's damp center. Lois rubbed herself against Ziva's firmly muscled leg, shivering as Ziva also dragged her nails up and down Lois's bare back. She asked in a husky tone, "Are you sure you've never been with a woman before?"

A playful smile and laughing, "Yes," was Ziva's only answer. Any other words were lost in the reaction Lois pulled from Ziva. First, she teased a startled gasp from Ziva by pinching her nipples; from what Gibbs could tell, it was a little rough for Ziva's tastes, but she didn't say a word, allowing the woman to do as she would. That would be a discussion before Ember, if it came to going there; Ziva had to be firm about her boundaries, or there could be trouble. The gasp was quickly swallowed by a low moan as Lois's hands continued further down, finding Ziva's sensitive folds and forcing Ziva's legs open.

Gibbs continued to split his attention, even as it got more difficult to do so. A sheen of sweat covered Ziva's golden-honey skin, and she was making small noises that Gibbs found more than a little appealing. Lois, however, was rougher with Ziva than he was comfortable with. The roughness continued as Lois moved herself lower down on Ziva's body, placing her mouth level with Ziva's center.

Lois continued to rub lazy circles around Ziva's clit, as she bit and nibbled Ziva's inner thighs. Gibbs could see Ziva tense at each and every one; when Lois replaced her circling fingers with her mouth, only to force three fingers into Ziva without warning, he knew he had to stop this. Steve simply stroked himself harder, seeming to enjoy Ziva's discomfort.

"Are you enjoying it a little rough, doll?" he asked from his seat. She turned to look at him, and he could read in her eyes that she was not comfortable with this.

"Is this to much, beautiful?" Lois refocused on Ziva's face. "I can take it easier."

Ziva found her voice. "Pleas. I am a little—"

"Over whelmed?" Lois asked, attentive again.

"Yes," Ziva admitted. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for this."

Lois leaned up on an elbow, kissing Ziva's cheek. "It's a shame, because I really like you, Ziva. But as I said, that's how the lifestyle is—no means no and no hard feelings if you don't click."

Gibbs felt a tension in his back loosen. He wasn't entirely sure why Ziva had picked this couple until now; but Lois's comments clued him in. Lois liked newbies. She seemed to enjoy the role of mentor, liked to answer questions about what this was like. Hence, she would have been interested in any of their victims. They had their first suspect.

Lois stayed on the futon with Ziva, cupping Ziva's face in one hand. "If you change your mind," Lois pulled a small business-sized calling card from her purse, slipping into Ziva's hand with a last quick kiss. Then Lois was on her feet, holding a hand out to help Ziva up.

Gibbs brought Ziva her dress, while Lois found her own clothes. Steve was looking disappointed in the corner, but didn't say a word. He met Gibbs's eyes, though, and shrugged before getting up and opening the door.

Lois smiled at Gibbs. "You have one lovely lady, there. Maybe another night."

Gibbs smiled back, wrapping an arm around Ziva as he guided her, now clothed, out into the hall. "Maybe so."

**~~~~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~~~~**

Gibbs was relieved as he and Ziva headed back to the main floor. "How did you choose them?" he asked her lowly.

"She was very interested in this being my first time here," Ziva said, equally lowly. "She was the only one who seemed overly interested in that fact. Everyone else, if they asked about it, simply wanted to know what I thought of the club, if it met my expectations."

Gibbs nodded, drawing her over towards the bathrooms. "There's towels and mouthwash and all that stuff in the ladies room."

Ziva's real smile shone out at him. "Thank you. I would like to freshen up after that."

"I'll wait here," Gibbs indicated a spot against the wall.


	20. Chapter 19

**Title- _The Club Killer_**

Work In Progress

**Author**- PTBvisiongrrl

**Part-** 19/?

**Date-** 1/1/12

**Rating** – M

**Pairings/Characters**- mainly Gabby, some Tiva

**Warnings-** mature themes, polyamory/swinging, BDSM, public sex, language

**Spoilers-** through Season Seven, Truth or Consequences

**Disclaimers-** _Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…_

_**Author's Note: **Apologies for the slow updates, but it can't be helped. Writer's block and Real Life. I am determined to keep working on this, no matter how difficult it is to complete. My ideas started off strong, then characters got all bullish and wouldn't do what I want them to…so think of it like a slow, ongoing negotiation between my muse and the petulant characters._

_**Chapter Seven**_

**In the Garden of Eden Part IV**

It did not take Ziva long to clean up, and she ran into a thoroughly debauched looking Abby upon exiting the bathroom stall. "Abby!" she said, surprised, continuing on to the sink to wash her face and hands.

"Hey, Z!" Abby smiled, knowing full well what she looked like right now as she breezed past her co-worker. "How's it going?" she asked from behind the stall door.

Ziva finished washing, pausing to answer before gargling with the small bottle of mouthwash Abby had stashed in her purse. "It is—going."

"So-" Abby flushed and freshened, emerging to meet Ziva's eyes in the mirror. "You hooked up?"

Ziva blushed under her tan. "Um, sort of." She reapplied lipstick and touched up her make-up while Abby gargled and washed as well. "Things did not go quite as planned."

Concern immediately settled in Abby's expression. "Are you okay?" The Somalian elephant lurked in the corners of the ladies' room.

Ziva bit her lip gently and nodded. "I am, actually—but things were not…" she searched for a good American idiom to explain, but couldn't find one.

In the pause, Abby completed the sentence for her. "Things just didn't click?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes. I, uh, did not enjoy myself very much, and Gibbs could tell."

"He's the magic man, Z, of course he could tell!" Abby smiled, glad that her man was so perceptive and protective of her friend, even while working. "Did things end okay?" Abby tried to use her inflection to get her meaning across, knowing that Ziva might not get the subtle question in the words themselves.

Ziva reached around Abby, studying their reflection in the mirror. "Things ended without any animosity."

"Good," Abby nodded, reaching for Ziva's hand and pulling her toward the door. "Then let's go out there and get you back on the horse. Or someone else to ride for a bit!" Laughing, Abby ran straight into Gibbs and Tony waiting outside.

~~~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~~~

Tony and Gibbs met up outside the ladies' room, waiting for their respective dates. Tony smirked at Gibbs, nodding towards the bathroom. "Abs needed a little break."

"That strawberry blonde keep her busy all this time?" Gibbs asked, one eyebrow raised. He wished he could have watched the entire show Abby had put on, but knew that Abby would be happy to replicate it another night for him, _off_ the clock.

"Those two are old friends," Tony answered. "Good friends."

Gibbs nodded, acknowledging the information shared. "See anything unusual?"

Tony nodded back, his eyes following a curvy brunette in thigh-high boots who walked past. "Thing or two, here or there. Nothing too big right now."

As the women emerged, hand in hand, Tony's eyes immediately shifted back. "Feeling better, ladies?"

"Yes, Tony," Abby answered, kissing his cheek. "I'm ready for another drink, then maybe another go-round. How about you, Gibbs?"

"A drink would be good," he said, brushing a kiss across Abby's lips before placing an arm around Ziva's waist to pull her against him. "Then we can see."

~~~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~~~

Returning to the bar, the three agents went back into surveillance mode, looking for people with whom to socialize with and talk. Abby was able, with a little input from Tony, to steer Gibbs and Ziva toward some regulars who tended to play with newbies or just knew everyone. These were people Abby was pretty well acquainted with, so it was more to see what information they could provide to the investigation, rather than that they were suspects.

**~~~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~~~**

While Gibbs and Ziva talked with the male half of a couple, Tony and Abby continued to engage others in casual conversation at the other end of the bar. Jim and Stacey, while just a year or two older then Abby and Tony, were 'old heads' at the club, having been members for more than a dozen years. Jim was in their usual spot, two stools near the pool table.

Not that pool was what was being played on those tables just then, a sight that provided a suitable common topic of conversation while talking to Jim.

Without exposing their operation, Gibbs masterfully manipulated the husband into providing a list of possible suspects for the last murder as they watched the pool table action. "There was a couple we were hoping to meet up with tonight whom we had talked to on-line a few times, but I haven't seen them yet. Jessie—I can't remember his name, just hers—has blonde hair, green eyes, rather petite." He chuckled with an embarrassed smile. "I know that's not much of a description, but if you saw her tattoo, you'd never forget her." It was one detail that had not been released, and their ace in the intel hole. "A huge peacock on one shoulder blade, feathered tail falling down her back and stopping _right there_," he indicated on Ziva's lower back just how far the tattoo had gone.

Jim smiled. "Oh, I remember that one. We didn't play, but I did talk to her for a little bit while Stacey was otherwise occupied. But I swore she said her name was Jasmine. I'm usually pretty good with names, but—guess I might have had more to drink that night than I thought." Jim swallowed a mouthful of his mixed drink before continuing, leaning a little to his right to get a better look at the table action. "She was only really interested in female companionship, but more than happy to talk to me about the lifestyle and club. It was only her second visit, she said, and was still taking it all. That's the way she phrased it, _taking it all_."

Ziva smiled. "Yes, she had mentioned that she was a little…shy when we were IMing." Ducking her head, coyly smiling at Jim, Ziva laughed lightly. "It was something we had in common."

Jim cocked his head to the side. "Similar preferences as well?" he asked, his interest in Ziva obvious.

Ziva smiled wider and laughed again. "I have no limits on my fun. I like to…experience new things."

"Stacey, too." Jim pointed towards his wife out on the dance floor. "Would you two be interested in meeting her?"

Gibbs kissed the back of Ziva's neck, the motion allowing him to speak unobtrusively into her ear. "We should talk with her, if she's into women and knows the people here."

Ziva studied Gibbs's face, biting her lip. This was her job; her partners were here and she would be perfectly safe; no meant no, whenever she was uncomfortable. Turning back to Jim, she placed an arm across his shoulders. "Yes, we would like that. Here, or somewhere else?"

A sly smile crossed Jim's face. "Whatever you are comfortable with, beautiful."

Ziva felt the tight muscles in her back relax minutely; she hadn't even been aware that they had tensed. "Would you like to go get her, or should we just accompany you?"

"Let me bring her over here to meet you," Jim rose, kissing Ziva's cheek. "We can all talk a little first, and see what Stacey wants to do."

Gibbs nodded, pulling Ziva back to him and allowing Jim to get up and wander over to his wife. In the ensuing privacy, he spoke quietly into her ear again. "Are you sure you want to do this? If there's anything that feels off, just say you'd rather not."

Ziva frowned, leaning back into Gibbs and turned her head to speak to him quietly. "What is the nice way to say that I am not interested, after meeting her?"

Gibbs glanced across the room, constantly observing his surroundings; seeing Jim point out Ziva and himself; he leaned down and brushed his lips against the pulse in Ziva's neck. "She sees us. They're still talking with another couple—she might have made other plans for the night." Turning Ziva to face him, he kissed a path to her ear and nibbled on her lobe. "Just say maybe another night if she suggests getting together and you don't want to. No means no—its all about consent, and connection. Basic belief of the life style."

Ziva caught her breath as Gibbs's tongue followed the path his lips had just taken. Boss or not, the odd family dynamic between them aside, undercover assignment or not, Ziva felt tension coiling in her belly in response. Gibbs might be older, but he was still damn attractive and quite talented with his mouth. Ziva took a moment to collect herself before managing a reply. "Easy enough, then, as long as the person you are rejecting really is into the lifestyle."

Gibbs paused and straightened up. Running a hand through Ziva's long, dark locks and tucking a loose strand behind her ear, Gibbs repeated Ziva's sentiment. "Someone who knows the lifestyle, really participates, wouldn't take offense at it. But someone new, or a little unstable—"

Ziva ran her hand up Gibbs's arm, allowing her to cup his face affectionately in her hand. "—might take great offense at such a thing. Or, if someone new to the this, tried to explain why they were not interested instead of just indicating 'not clicking'…"

Gibbs leaned into Ziva's hand, looking intently into her eyes. Anyone who didn't hear the ongoing conversation would certainly mistake the look for something much more sexual—although Ziva, with the new information she had about Gibbs, now understood that Gibbs's predatory investigative focus simply echoed other aspects of his personality. "Someone might take offense, and try to get even."

"Killing over such a thing seems extreme," Ziva objected.

Gibbs shook his head, chuckling lowly. "Doesn't murder always seem extreme?"

"True," Ziva agreed, turning her attention to Gibbs's neck, mouthing her way to his ear as she noted their informant's return. "Stacey is not following Jim back."

Gibbs nudged against Ziva's cheek, speaking directly into her ear. "Must not be interested. We'll just get their contact info, maybe talk to them somewhere else."

"Okay," Ziva turned herself so that her back was against Gibbs's front, allowing her to watch Jim's approach with a regretful look on his face. Greeting him with a playful pout, Ziva raised an eyebrow. "Stacey already made other plans?"

Nodding, Jim agreed. "Maybe another night, Ziva?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yes, I would like that. Until another night, then?"

Reaching into his back pocket, Jim pulled out a plain white card with two names and an email address emblazoned on it in red foil letters. Leaning in to kiss Ziva, he pressed the card into her hand. "Another night, beautiful lady, Gibbs," Jim said in parting, returning to his wife's side across the club.


End file.
